ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH; 


OB, 


LIFE  IN  CANADA. 


BY        SUSANNA        HOODIE. 


I  sketch  from  Nature,  and  the  picture's  true ; 
Whate'er  the  subject,  whether  grave  or  gay, 
Painful  experience  in  a  distant  land 
ie  it  mine  own. 


GEORGE  P.  PUTNAM,  10  PARK  PLACE, 

M  .  DCCC  . LU. 


TO 

AGNES    STRICKLAND, 

Author  of  "  The  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England," 
THIS      SIMPLE      TRIBUTE      OF      AFFECTION 

fis  BrtrfcateU, 

BY      HER     SISTER, 

SUSANNA  HOODIE. 


5  73 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


"DOUCHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH  is  a  work  of  so  much 
merit,  the  scenes  and  adventures  it  describes  are 
so  full  of  freshness,  truth  and  humour,  the  tone  that 
pervades  its  entertaining  pages  is  so  healthy,  and  the 
lessons  it  teaches  are  so  profitable,  that  it  was  thought 
a  pity  for  its  wide  circulation  to  be  endangered  by  the 
retention  of  any  extraneous  matter  that  would  increase 
its  bulk  and  its  cost  without  adding  to  its  value.  The 
accomplished  and  heroic  author  wi]l  not,  therefore,  be 
disposed  to  complain  that  her  work  should  have  under 
gone  a  careful  excision  of  certain,  passages  of  a  purely 
personal  or  political  character,  which  could  have  pos 
sessed  no  interest  for  the  American  reader,  and  the  loss 
of  which  will  be  compensated  by  the  gain  of  a  larger 
audience  than  she  could  have  otherwise  hoped  for. 

Mrs.  Moodie  is  a  true  heroine,  and  her  simple  narra 
tive  is  a  genuine  romance,  which  has  all  the  interest 
of  an  imaginative  creation.  Her  sister,  Miss  Agnes 


IV  PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 

Strickland,  who  has  written  the  histories  of  the  Queens 
of  England,  has  never  recorded  the  life  of  a  more  noble- 
hearted  and  heroic  woman,  one  more  devoted  to  her 
duties,  or  more  courageous  in  their  fulfilment,  than 
will  be  found  developed  in  the  following  pages. 

The  London  Edition  of  "  Koughing  it  in  the  Bush" 
contains  several  small  poems  by  Mrs.  Moodie  and  her 
husband,  which  have  been  excluded,  because  they 
rather  retarded  the  flow  of  the  narrative,  and  did  not 
possess  sufficient  interest  in  themselves  to  serve  as  an 

apology  for  their  presence. 

C.  F.  B. 

YORK,  June,  1852. 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  THE  LONDON  EDITION. 


TN  justice  to  Mrs.  Moodie,  it  is  right  to  state  that 
being  still  resident  in  the  far- west  of  Canada,  she 
has  not  been  able  to  superintend  this  work  whilst  pass 
ing  through  the  press.  From  this  circumstance  some 
verbal  mistakes  and  oversights  may  have  occurred,  but 
the  greatest  care  has  been  taken  to  avoid  them. 

Although  well  known  as  an  authoress  in  Canada, 
and  a  member  of  a  family  which  has  enriched  English 
literature  with  works  of  very  high  popularity,  Mrs. 
Moodie  is  chiefly  remembered  in  this  country  by  a 
volume  of  Poems  published  in  1831,  under  her  maiden 
name  of  Susanna  Strickland.  During  the  rebellion  in 
Canada,  her  loyal  lyrics,  prompted  by  strong  affec 
tion  for  her  native  country,  were  circulated  and  sung 
throughout  the  colony,  and  produced  a  great  effect  in 
rousing  an  enthusiastic  feeling  in  favour  of  law  and 
order.  Another  of  her  lyrical  compositions,  the  charm 
ing  Sleigh  Song,  printed  in  the  present  work,  vol.  i. 


vi  ADVERTISEMENT  TO  THE  LONDON  EDITION. 

p.  210,  has  been  extremely  popular  in  Canada.  The 
warmth  of  feeling  which  beams  through  every  line, 
and  the  touching  truthfulness  of  its  details,  won  for  it 
a  reception  there  as  universal  as  it  was  favourable. 

The  glowing  narrative  of  personal  incident  and  suf 
fering  which  she  gives  in  the  present  work,  will  no 
doubt  attract  general  attention.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  point  out  delineations  of  fortitude  under  privation, 
more  interesting  or  more  pathetic  than  those  contained 
in  her  second  volume. 

LONDON,  January  22,  1852. 


CONTENTS   OF  YOL.   I. 


A   VISIT  TO   GROSSE   ISLE, 1 

QUEBEC, 12 

CUE  JOURNEY  UP  THE  COUNTRY, 20 

TOM  WILSON'S  EMIGRATION, SO 

OUR   FIRST   SETTLEMENT,   AND   THE   BORROWING    SYSTEM,     ...  54 

OLD   SATAN   AND   TOM   WILSON'S   NOSE, 81 

UNCLE   JOE  AND   HIS   FAMILY,   .            .            -. 92 

JOHN   MONAGHAN, 112 

PHCEBE   H ,   AND   OUR   SECOND   MOVING, 128 

BRIAN,   THE   STILL-HUNTER, 140 

THE   CHARIVARI, 160 

THE   LAND-JOBBER,  .  .  ,  .  .  .  ,  .  .181 


ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTEK    I. 

A    VISIT    TO    aROSSE    ISLE. 

Alas!  that  man's  stern  spirit  e'er  should 
A  scene  so  pure — so  exquisite  as  this. 

THE  dreadful  cholera  was  depopulating  Quebec  and  Mon 
treal,  when  our  ship  cast  anchor  off  Grosse  Isle,  on  the 
30th  of  August,  1832,  and  we  were  boarded  a  few  minutes 
after  by  the  health-officers.  One  of  these  gentlemen — a  little, 
shrivelled-up  Frenchman — from  his  solemn  aspect  and  atten 
uated  figure,  would  have  made  no  bad  representative  of  him 
who  sat  upon  the  pale  horse.  He  was  the  only  grave  French 
man  I  had  ever  seen,  and  I  naturally  enough  regarded  him  as 
a  phenomenon.  His  companion — a  fine-looking,  fair-haired 
Scotchman — though  a  little  consequential  in  his  manners, 
looked  like  one  who  in  his  own  person  could  combat  and 
vanquish  all  the  evils  which  flesh  is  heir  to.  Such  was  the 
contrast  between  these  doctors,  that  they  would  have  formed 
very  good  emblems — one,  of  vigorous  health  j  the  other,  of 
hopeless  decay. 
Our  captain,  a  rude,  blunt,  north-country  sailor,  possessing 


3  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

certainly  not  more  politeness  than  might  be  expected  in  a 
bear,  received  his  sprucely-dressed  visitors  on  the  deck,  and, 
with  very  little  courtesy,  abruptly  bade  them  follow  him 
down  into  the  cabin.  The  officials  were  no  sooner  seated, 
than,  glancing  hastily  round  the  place,  they  commenced  the 
following  dialogue : — 

"  From  what  port,  captain  ?" 

Now  the  captain  had  a  peculiar  language  of  his  own,  from 
which  he  commonly  expunged  all  the  connecting  links.  Small 
words,  such  as  "  and"  and  "  the,"  he  contrived  to  dispense 
with  altogether. 

"  Scotland — sailed  from  port  o'  Leitfy  bound  for  Quebec, 
Montreal — general  cargo — seventy-two  steerage,  four  cabin 
passengers — brig  ninety-two  tons  burden,  crew  eight  hands." 
Here  he  produced  his  credentials,  and  handed  them  to  the 
strangers.  The  Scotchman  just  glanced  over  the  documents, 
and  laid  them  on  the  table. 

"  Had  you  a  good  passage  out  7" 

"  Tedious,  baffling  winds,  heavy  fogs,  detained  three  weeks 
on  Banks — foul  weather  making  Gulf — short  of  water,  people 
out  of  provisions,  steerage  passengers  starving/' 

"  Any  case  of  sickness  or  death  on  board  V* 

11  All  sound  as  crickets." 

"  Any  births  ?"  lisped  the  little  Frenchman. 

The  captain  screwed  up  his  mouth,  and  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  he  replied,  "  Births  ?  Why,  yes ;  now  I  think  on't, 
gentlemen,  we  had  one  female  on  board,  who  produced  three 
at  a  birth." 

"  That's  uncommon,"  said  the  Scotch  doctor,  with  an  air  of 
lively  curiosity.  "  Are  the  children  alive  and  well  ?  I  should 
like  much  to  see  them/5  He  started  up,  and  knocked  his 
head,  for  he  was  very  tall,  against  the  ceiling.  "  Confound 
your  low  cribs !  I  have  nearly  dashed  out  my  brains." 


£  VISIT  TO  OROSSE  ISLE.  3 

K  A  hard  task,  that,"  looked  the  captain  to  me.  He  did 
not  speak,  but  I  knew  by  his  sarcastic  grin  what  was  upper 
most  in  his  thoughts.  "  The  young  ones  all  males — fine 
thriving  fellows.  Step  upon  deck,  Sam  Frazer,"  turning  to 
his  steward ;  "  bring  them  down  for  doctors  to  see."  Sam 
vanished,  with  a  knowing  wink  to  his  superior,  and  quickly 
returned,  bearing  in  his  arms  three  fat,  chuckle-headed  bull- 
terriers  ;  the  sagacious  mother  following  close  at  his  heels, 
and  looked  ready  to  give  and  take  offence  on  the  slightest 
provocation. 

"  Here,  gentlemen,  are  the  babies,"  said  Frazer,  depositing 
his  burden  on  the  floor.  "  They  do  credit  to  the  nursing  of 
the  brindled  slut." 

The  old  tar  laughed,  chuckled,  and  rubbed  his  hands  in  an 
ecstacy  of  delight  at  the  indignation  and  disappointment  visi 
ble  in  the  countenance  of  the  Scotch  Esculapius,  who,  angry 
as  he  wTas,  wisely  held  his  tongue.  Not  so  the  Frenchman  ; 
his  rage  scarcely  knew  bounds, — he  danced  in  a  state  of  most 
ludicrous  excitement, — he  shook  his  fist  at  our  rough  captain, 
and  screamed  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 

"  Sacre,  you  bete  !  You  tink  us  dog,  ven  you  try  to  pass 
your  puppies  on  us  for  babies  V 

"  Hout,  man,  don't  be  angry,"  said  the  Scotchman,  stifling 
a  laugh  ;  "  you  see  'tis  only  a  joke  !" 

"  Joke !  me  no  understand  such  joke.  Bete !"  returned 
the  angry  Frenchman,  bestowing  a  savage  kick  on  one  of  the 
unoffending  pups  which  was  frisking  about  his  feet.  The 
pup  yelped ;  the  slut  barked  and  leaped  furiously  at  the 
offender,  and  was  only  kept  from  biting  him  by  Sam,  who 
could  scarcely  hold  her  back  for  laughing ;  the  captain  was 
uproarious ;  the  offended  Frenchman  alone  maintained  a 
severe  and  dignified  aspect.  The  dogs  were  at  length  dis 
missed,  and  peace  restored.  After  some  further  questioning 


4"  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE 

from  the  officials,  a  bible  was  required  for  the  captain  to  take 
an  oath. 

"  Confound  it !"  muttered  the  old  sailor,  tossing  over  the 
papers  in  his  desk  ;  "  that  scoundrel,  Sam,  always  stows  my 
traps  out  of  the  way."  Then  taking  up  from  the  table  a  book 
which  I  had  been  reading,  which  happened  to  be  Voltaire's 
History  of  Charles  XIL,  he  presented  it,  with  as  grave  an  air 
as  he  could  assume,  to  the  Frenchman.  Taking  for  granted 
that  it  was  the  volume  required,  the  little  doctor  was  too 
polite  to  open  the  book,  the  captain  was  duly  sworn,  and  the 
party  returned  to  the  deck.  Here  a  new  difficulty  occurred, 
which  nearly  ended  in  a  serious  quarrel.  The  gentlemen  re 
quested  the  old  sailor  to  give  them  a  few  feet  of  old  planking, 
to  repair  some  damage  which  their  boat  had  sustained  the  day 
before.  This  the  captain  could  not  do.  They  seemed  to 
think  his  refusal  intentional,  and  took  it  as  a  personal  affront. 
In  no  very  gentle  tones,  they  ordered  him  instantly  to  prepare 
his  boats,  and  put  his  passengers  on  shore. 

"  Stiff  breeze — short  sea,"  returned  the  bluff  old  seaman  ; 
"  great  risk  in  making  land — boats  heavily  laden  with  women 
and  children  will  be  swamped.  Not  a  soul  goes  on  shore  this 
night." 

"  If  you  refuse  to  comply  with  our  orders,  we  will  report 
you  to  the  authorities." 

"  I  know  my  duty — you  stick  to  yours.  When  the  wind 
falls  off,  I'll  see  to  it.  Not  a  life  shall  be  risked  to  please 
you  or  your  authorities." 

He  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  the  medical  men  left  the 
vessel  in  great  disdain.  We  had  every  reason  to  be  thankful 
for  the  firmness  displayed  by  our  rough  commander.  That 
same  evening  we  saw  eleven  persons  drowned,  from  another 
vessel  close  beside  us,  while  attempting  to  make  the  shore. 

By  daybreak  all  was  hurry  and  confusion  on  board  the 


A   VISIT  TO  GROSSE  ISLE.  5 

Anne.  I  watched  boat  after  boat  depart  for  the  island,  full 
of  people  and  goods,  and  envied  them  the  glorious  privilege 
of  once  more  standing  firmly  on  the  earth,  after  two  long 
months  of  rocking  and  rolling  at  sea.  As  cabin  passengers, 
we  were  not  included  in  the  general  order  of  purification,  but 
were  only  obliged  to  send  our  servant,  with  the  clothes  and 
bedding  we  had  used  during  the  voyage,  on  shore,  to  be 
washed. 

The  ship  was  soon  emptied  of  all  her  live  cargo.  My 
husband  went  off  with  the  boats,  to  reconnoitre  the  island, 
and  I  was  left  alone  with  my  baby,  in  the  otherwise  empty 
vessel.  Even  Oscar,  the  captain's  Scotch  terrier,  who  had 
formed  a  devoted  attachment  to  me  during  the  voyage,  forgot 
his  allegiance,  became  possessed  of  the  land  mania,  and  was 
away  with  the  rest.  With  the  most  intense  desire  to  go  on 
shore,  I  was  doomed  to  look  and  long  and  envy  every  boatful 
of  emigrants  that  glided  past.  Nor  was  this  all ;  the  ship 
was  out  of  provisions,  and  I  was  condemned  to  undergo  a 
rigid  fast  until  the  return  of  the  boat,  when  the  captain  had 
promised  a  supply  of  fresh  butter  and  bread.  The  vessel  had 
been  nine  weeks  at  sea ;  the  poor  steerage  passengers  for  the 
two  last  weeks  had  been  out  of  food,  and  the  captain  had 
been  obliged  to  feed  them  from  the  ship's  stores.  The  prom 
ised  bread  was  to  be  obtained  from  a  small  steamboat,  which 
plied  daily  between  Quebec  and  the  island,  transporting  con 
valescent  emigrants  and  their  goods  in  her  upward  trip,  and 
provisions  for  the  sick  on  her  return.  How  I  reckoned  on 
once  more  tasting  bread  and  butter !  The  very  thought  of 
the  treat  in  store  served  to  sharpen  my  appetite,  and  render 
the  long  fast  more  irksome. 

As  the  sun  rose  above  the  horizon,  all  these  matter-of-fact 
circumstances  were  gradually  forgotten,  and  merged  in  the 
surpassing  grandeur  of  the  scene  that  rose  majestically  before 


6  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

me.  The  previous  day  had  been  dark  and  stormy ;  and  a 
heavy  fog  had  concealed  the  mountain  chain,  which  forms  the 
stupendous  background  to  this  sublime  view,  entirely  from 
our  sight.  As  the  clouds  rolled  away  from  their  gray,  bald 
brows,  and  cast  into  denser  shadow  the  vast  forest  belt  that 
girdled  them  round,  they  loomed  out  like  mighty  giants — 
Titans  of  the  earth,  in  all  their  rugged  and  awful  beauty — a 
thrill  of  wonder  and  delight  pervaded  my  mind.  The  spec 
tacle  floated  dimly  on  my  sight — my  eyes  were  blinded  with 
tears — blinded  with  the  excess  of  beauty.  I  turned  to  the 
right  and  to  the  left,  I  looked  up  and  down  the  glorious  river ; 
never  had  I  beheld  so  many  striking  objects  blended  into  one 
mighty  whole  !  Nature  had  lavished  all  her  noblest  features 
in  producing  that  enchanting  scene. 

The  rocky  isle  in  front,  with  its  neat  farm-houses  at  the 
eastern  point,  and 'its  high  bluff  at  the  western  extremity, 
crowned  with  the  telegraph — the  middle  space  occupied  by 
tents  and  sheds  for  the  cholera  patients,  and  its  wooded  shores 
dotted  over  with  motley  groups— added  greatly  to  the  pic 
turesque  effect  of  the  land  scene.  Then  the  broad,  glittering 
river,  covered  with  boats  darting  to  and  fro,  conveying  pas 
sengers  from  twenty-five  vessels,  of  various  size  and  tonnage, 
which  rode  at  anchor,  with  their  flags  flying  from  the  mast-head, 
gave  an  air  of  life  and  interest  to  the  whole.  Turning  to  the 
south  side  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  I  was  not  less  struck  with  its 
low  fertile  shores,  white  houses,  and  neat  churches,  whoso 
slender  spires  and  bright  tin  roofs  shone  like  silver  as  they 
caught  the  first  rays  of  the  sun.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  a  line  of  white  buildings  extended  along  the  bank ; 
their  background  formed  by  the  purple  hue  of  the  dense,  in 
terminable  forest.  It  was  a  scene  unlike  any  I  had  ever 
beheld,  and  to  which  Britain  contains  no  parallel.  Mackenzie, 
an  old  Scotch  dragoon,  who  was  one  of  our  passengers,  when 


A    VISIT  TO  GROSSS  ISLE,  7 

he  rose  in  the  morning,  and  saw  the  parish  of  St.  Thomas  for 
the  first  time,  exclaimed — "  Weel,  it  beats  a' !  Can  thao 
white  clouts  be  a'  houses  ?  They  look  like  claes  hung  out  to 
drie  !"  There  was  some  truth  in  this  odd  comparison,  and  for 
some  minutes,  I  could  scarcely  convince  myself  that  the  whito 
patches  scattered  so  thickly  over  the  opposite  shore  could  be 
the  dwellings  of  a  busy,  lively  population. 

"  What  sublime  views  of  the  north  side  of  the  river  those 
habitans  of  St.  Thomas  must  enjoy,"  thought  I.  Perhaps 
familiarity  with  the  scene  has  rendered  them  indifferent  to  its 
astonishing  beauty. 

Eastward,  the  view  down  the  St.  Lawrence  towards  the 
Gulf,  is  the  finest  of  all,  scarcely  surpassed  by  any  thing  in  the 
world.  Your  eye  follows  the  long  range  of  lofty  mountains 
until  their  blue  summits  are  blended  and  lost  in  the  blue  of 
the  sky.  Some  of  these,  partially  cleared  round  the  base,  are 
sprinkled  over  with  neat  cottages  ;  and  the  green  slopes  that 
spread  around  them  are  covered  with  flocks  and  herds.  The 
surface  of  the  splendid  river  is  diversified  with  islands  of 
every  size  and  shape,  some  in  wood,  others  partially  cleared, 
and  adorned  with  orchards  and  white  farm-houses.  As  the 
early  sun  streamed  upon  the  most  prominent  of  these,  leaving 
the  others  in  deep  shade,  the  effect  was  strangely  novel  and 

imposing. 

******* 

My  day-dreams  were  dispelled  by  the  return  of  the  boat, 
which  brought  my  husband  and  the  captain  from  the  island. 

"  No  bread,"  said  the  latter,  shaking  his  head ;  "  you  must 
be  content  to  starve  a  little  longer.  Provision-ship  not  in  till 
four  o'clock."  My  husband  smiled  at  the  look  of  blank  dis 
appointment  with  which  I  received  these  unwelcome  tidings. 
"Never  mind,  I  have  news  which  will  comfort  you.  The 
officer  who  commands  the  station  sent  a  note  to  me  by  an 


8  HOUGHING  IT  IN  TEE  3US&. 

orderly,  inviting  us  to  spend  the  afternoon  with  him.     He 
promises  to  show  us  every  thing  worthy  of  notice  on  the 

island.     Captain claims  acquaintance  with  me ;   but  I 

have  not  the  least  recollection  of  him.    Would  you  like  to 

l»r 

"  Oh,  by  all  means.  I  long  to  see  the  lovely  island.  It 
looks  a  perfect  paradise  at  this  distance." 

The  rough  sailor-captain  screwed  his  mouth  on  one  side, 
and  gave  me  one  of  his  comical  looks,  but  he  said  nothing 
until  he  assisted  in  placing  me  and  the  baby  in  the  boat. 

"  Don't  be  too  sanguine,  Mrs.  Moodie ;  many  things  look 
well  at  a  distance  which  are  bad  enough  when  near." 

It  was  four  o'clock  when  we  landed  on  the  rocks,  which 
the  rays  of  an  intensely  scorching  sun  had  rendered  so  hot 
that  I  could  scarcely  place  my  foot  upon  them.  How  the 
people  without  shoes  bore  it,  I  cannot  imagine.  Never  shall 
I  forget  the  extraordinary  spectacle  that  met  our  sight  the 
moment  we  passed  the  low  range  of  bushes  which  formed  a 
screen  in  front  of  the  river.  A  crowd  of  many  hundred  Irish 
emigrants  had  been  landed  during  the  present  and  former 
day ;  and  all  this  motley  crew — men,  women,  and  children, 
who  were  not  confined  by  sickness  to  the  sheds  (which  greatly 
resembled  cattle-pens) — were  employed  in  washing  clothes, 
or  spreading  them  out  on  the  rocks  and  bushes  to  dry.  The 
men  and  boys  were  in  the  water,  while  the  women,  with  their 
scanty  garments  tucked  above  their  knees,  were  trampling 
their  bedding  in  tubs,  or  in  holes  in  the  rocks,  which  the  re. 
tiring  tide  had  left  half  full  of  water.  Those  who  did  not 
possess  washing-tubs,  pails,  or  iron  pots,  or  could  not  obtain 
access  to  a  hole  in  the  rocks,  were  running  to  and  fro,  scream 
ing  and  scolding  in  no  measured  terms.  The  confusion  of 
Babel  was  among  them.  All  talkers  and  no  hearers — each 
shouting  and  yelling  in  his  or  her  uncouth  dialect,  and  all  ao- 


A    VISIT  TO  GROSSE  ISLE.  9 

company  ing  their  vociferations  with  violent  and  extraordinary 
gestures,  quite  incomprehensible  to  the  uninitiated.  We  were 
literally  stunned  by  the  strife  of  tongues.  I  shrank,  with  feel 
ings  almost  akin  to  fear,  from  the  hard-featured,  sun-burnt 
harpies,  as  they  elbowed  rudely  past  me. 

I  have  heard  and  read  much  of  savages,  and  have  since 
seen,  during  my  long  residence  in  the  bush,  somewhat  of  un 
civilized  life ;  but  the  Indian  is  one  of  Nature's  gentlemen — 
he  never  says  or  does  a  rude  or  vulgar  thing.  The  vicious, 
uneducated  barbarians  who  form  the  surplus  of  over-populous 
European  countries,  are  far  behind  the  wild  man  in  delicacy 
of  feeling  or  natural  courtesy.  The  people  who  covered  the 
island  appeared  perfectly  destitute  of  shame,  or  even  of  a 
sense  of  common  decency.  Many  were  almost  naked,  still 
more  but  partially  clothed.  We  turned  in  disgust  from  the 
revolting  scene,  but  were  unable  to  leave  the  spot  until  the 
captain  had  satisfied  a  noisy  group  of  his  own  people,  who 
were  demanding  a  supply  of  stores. 

And  here  I  must  observe  that  our  passengers,  who  were 
chiefly  honest  Scotch  labourers  and  mechanics  from  the  vicin 
ity  of  Edinburgh,  and  who  while  on  board  ship  had  conducted 
themselves  with  the  greatest  propriety,  and  appeared  the  most 
quiet,  orderly  set  of  people  in  the  world,  no  sooner  set  foot 
upon  the  island  than  they  became  infected  by  the  same  spirit 
of  insubordination  and  misrule,  and  were  just  as  insolent  and 
noisy  as  the  rest.  While  our  captain  was  vainly  endeavour 
ing  to  satisfy  the  unreasonable  demands  of  his  rebellious  peo 
ple,  Moodie  had  discovered  a  woodland  path  that  led  to  the 
back  of  the  island.  Sheltered  by  some  hazel-bushes  from  the 
intense  heat  of  the  sun,  we  sat  down  by  the  cool,  gushing 
river,  out  of  sight,  but,  alas  !  not  out  of  hearing  of  the  noisy, 
riotous  crowd.  The  rocky  banks  of  the  island  were  adorned 
with  beautiful  evergreens,  which  sprang  up  spontaneously  in 


10  EOUGITING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

every  nook  and  crevice.  I  remarked  many  of  our  favourite 
garden  shrubs  among  these  wildings  of  nature.  The  fillagree, 
with  its  narrow,  dark  glossy-green  leaves ;  the  privet,  with  its 
modest  white  blossoms  and  purple  berries ;  the  lignum-vitse, 
with  its  strong  resinous  odour ;  the  burnet-rose,  and  a  great 
variety  of  elegant  unknowns. 

Here,  the  shores  of  the  island  and  mainland,  receding  from 
each  other,  formed  a  small  cove,  overhung  with  lofty  trees, 
clothed  from  the  base  to  the  summit  with  wild  vines,  that 
hung  in  graceful  festoons  from  the  topmost  branches  to  the 
water's  edge.  The  dark  shadows  of  the  mountains,  thrown 
upon  the  water,  as  they  towered  to  the  height  of  some  thou 
sand  feet  above  us,  gave  to  the  surface  of  the  river  an  ebon 
hue.  The  sunbeams,  dancing  through  the  quick,  quivering 
foliage,  fell  in  stars  of  gold,  or  long  lines  of  dazzling  bright 
ness,  upon  the  deep  black  waters,  producing  the  most  novel 
and  beautiful  effects. 

We  were  now  joined  by  the  sergeant,  who  very  kindly 
brought  us  his  capful  of  ripe  plums  and  hazel-nuts,  the  growth 
of  the  island ;  a  joyful  present,  but  marred  by  a  note  from 

Captain ,  who  had  found  that  he  had  been  mistaken  in 

his  supposed  knowledge  of  us,  and  politely  apologized  for  not 
being  allowed  by  the  health-officers  to  receive  any  emigrant 
beyond  the  bounds  appointed  for  the  performance  of  quaran 
tine.  I  was  deeply  disappointed,  but  my  husband  laughingly 
told  me  that  I  had  seen  enough  of  the  island  ;  and  turning  to 
the  good-natured  soldier,  remarked,  that  "  it  could  be  no 
easy  task  to  keep  such  wild  savages  in  order." 

"  You  may  well  say  that,  sir — but  our  night  scenes  far 
exceed  those  of  the  day.  You  would  think  they  were  incar 
nate  devils  ;  singing,  drinking,  dancing,  shouting,  and  cutting 
antics  that  would  surprise  the  leader  of  a  circus.  They  have 
no  shame — are  under  no  restraint — nobody  knows  them  here, 


A   VISIT  TO  GEOSSE  ISLE.  l~ 

and  they  think  they  can  speak  and  act  as  they  please;  and 
they  are  such  thieves  that  they  rob  one  another  of  the  little 
they  possess.  The  healthy  actually  run  the  risk  of  taking  the 
cholera  by  robbing  the  sick.  If  you  have  not  hired  one  or 
two  stout,  honest  fellows  from  among  your  fellow-passengers 
to  guard  your  clothes  while  they  are  drying,  you  will  never 
see  half  of  them  again.  They  are  a  sad  set,  sir,  a  sad  set. 
We  could,  perhaps,  manage  the  men ;  but  the  women,  sir  I— 
the  women  !  Oh,  sir !" 

Anxious  as  we  were  to  return  to  the  ship,  we  were  obliged 
to  remain  until  sundown  in  our  retired  nook.  We  were 
hungry,  tired,  and  out  of  spirits  ;  the  mosquitoes  swarmed  in 
myriads  around  us,  tormenting  the  poor  baby,  who,  not  at 
all  pleased  with  her  first  visit  to  the  new  world,  filled  the  air 
with  cries ;  when  the  captain  came  to  tell  us,  that  the  boat 
was  ready.  It  was  a  welcome  sound.  Forcing  our  way 
once  more  through  the  still  squabbling  crowd,  wre  gained  the 
landing-place.  Here  we  encountered  a  boat,  just  landing  a 
fresh  cargo  of  lively  savages  from  the  Emerald  Isle.  One 
fellow,  of  gigantic  proportions,  whose  long,  tattered  great-coat 
just  reached  below  the  middle  of  his  bare  red  legs,  and,  like 
charity,  hid  the  defects  of  his  other  garments,  or  perhaps 
concealed  his  want  of  them,  leaped  upon  the  rocks,  and  flour 
ishing  aloft  his  shilelagh,  bounded  and  capered  like  a  wild 
goat  from  his  native  mountains.  "  Whurrah !  my  boys !"  he 
cried,  "  Sure  we'll  all  be  jontlemen !" 

"Pull  away,  my  lads!"  exclaimed  our  captain,  and  in  a 
few  moments  we  were  again  on  board.  Thus  ended  my  first 
day's  experience  of  the  land  of  all  our  hopes. 


HOUGHING  IT  IN  TUE  BUSH. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

QUEBEC. 

ON  the  22d  of  September,  the  anchor  was  weighed,  and  we 
bade  a  long  farewell  to  Grosse  Isle.  As  our  vessel  struck 
into  mid-channel,  I  cast  a  last  lingering  look  at  the  "beautiful 
shores  we  were  leaving.  Cradled  in  the  arms  of  the  St.  Law 
rence,  and  basking  in  the  bright  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  the 
island  and  its  sister  group  looked  like  a  second  Eden  just 
emerged  from  the  waters  of  chaos.  The  day  was  warm,  and 
the  cloudless  heavens  of  that  peculiar  azure  tint  which  gives 
to  the  Canadian  skies  and  waters  a  brilliancy  unknown  in 
more  northern  latitudes.  The  air  was  pure  and  elastic,  the 
sun  shone  out  with  uncommon  splendour,  lighting  up  the 
changing  woods  with  a  rich  mellow  colouring,  composed  of  a 
thousand  brilliant  and  vivid  dyes.  The  mighty  river  rolled 
flashing  and  sparkling  onward,  impelled  by  a  strong  breeze, 
that  tipped  its  short  rolling  surges  with  a  crest  of  snowy  foam. 

Never  shall  I  forget  that  short  voyage  from  Grosse  Isle  to 
Quebec.  I  love  to  recall,  after  the  lapse  of  so  many  years, 
every  object  that  awoke  in  my  breast  emotions  of  astonish 
ment  and  delight.  What  wonderful  combinations  of  beauty, 
and  grandeur,  and  power,  at  every  winding  of  that  noble 
river ! 

Every  perception  of  my  mind  became  absorbed  into  the 
one  sense  of  seeing,  when,  upon  rounding  Point  Levi,  we  cast 
anchor  before  Quebec.  What  a  scene ! — Can  the  world  pro- 


QVEBEO.  13 

duce  such  another  ?  Edinburgh  had  been  the  beau  ideal  to 
me  'of  all  that  was  beautiful  in  Nature — a  vision  of  the 
northern  Highlands  had  haunted  my  dreams  across  the  At 
lantic  ;  but  all  these  past  recollections  faded  before  the  present 
of  Quebec.  Nature  has  lavished  all  her  grandest  elements  to 
form  this  astonishing  panorama.  There  frowns  the  cloud- 
capped  mountain,  and  below,  the  cataract  foams  and  thunders ; 
wood,  and  rock,  and  river  combine  to  lend  their  aid  in  making 
the  picture  perfect,  and  worthy  of  its  Divine  Originator. 

The  precipitous  bank  upon  which  the  city  lies  piled,  re 
flected  in  the  still,  deep  waters  at  its  base,  greatly  enhances 
the  romantic  beauty  of  the  situation.  The  mellow  and  serene 
glow  of  the  autumnal  day  harmonized  so  perfectly  with  the 
solemn  grandeur  of  the  scene  around  me,  and  sank  so  silently 
and  deeply  into  my  soul,  that  my  spirit  fell  prostrate  before 
it,  and  I  melted  involuntarily  into  tears. 

The  pleasure  we  experienced  upon  our  first  glance  at 
Quebec  was  greatly  damped  by  the  sad  conviction  that  the 
cholera  raged  within  her  walls,  while  the  almost  ceaseless 
tolling  of  bells  proclaimed  a  mournful  tale  of  woe  and  death. 
Scarcely  a  person  visited  the  vessel  who  was  not  in  black,  or 
who  spoke  not  in  tones  of  subdued  grief.  They  advised  us 
not  to  go  on  shpre  if  we  valued  our  lives,  as  strangers  most 
commonly  fell  the  first  victims  to  the  fatal  malady.  This 
was  to  me  a  severe  disappointment,  who  felt  an  intense  de 
sire  to  climb  to  the  crown  of  the  rock,  and  survey  the  noble 
landscape  at  my  feet.  I  yielded  at  last  to  the  wishes  of  my 
husband,  who  did  not  himself  resist  the  temptation  in  his  own 
person,  and  endeavoured  to  content  myself  with  the  means 
of  enjoyment  placed  within  my  reach.  My  eyes  were  never 
tired  of  wandering  over  the  scene  before  me. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  how  differently  the  objects  which 
call  forth  intense  admiration  in  some  minds  will  affect  others. 


14  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  £ VSff. 

The  Scotch  dragoon,  Mackenzie,  seeing  me  look  long  and  in 
tently  at  the  distant  Falls  of  Montmorency,  dryly  observed, 

"  It  may  be  a'  vera  fine ;  but  it  looks  na'  better  to  my 
thinken  than  hanks  o'  white  woo'  hung  out  o'er  the  bushes." 

"  Weel,"  cried  another,  "  thae  fa's  are  just  bonnie ;  'tis  a 
Draw  land,  nae  doubt ;  but  no'  just  so  braw  as  auld  Scotland." 

"  Hout,  man !  hauld  your  cl  avers,  we  shall  a'  be  lairds 
here,"  said  a  third ;  "  and  ye  maun  wait  a  muckle  time  before 
they  wad  think  aucht  of  you  at  hame." 

I  was  not  a  little  amused  at  the  extravagant  expectations 
entertained  by  some  of  our  steerage  passengers.  The  sight 
of  the  Canadian  shores  had  changed  them  into  persons  of 
great  consequence.  The  poorest  and  the  worst-dressed,  the 
least-deserving  and  the  most  repulsive  in  mind  and  morals, 
exhibited  most  disgusting  traits  of  self-importance.  Vanity 
and  presumption  seemed  to  possess  them  altogether.  They 
talked  loudly  of  the  rank  and  wealth  of  their  connections  at 
home,  and  lamented  the  great  sacrifices  they  had  made  in 
order  to  join  brothers  and  cousins  who  had  foolishly  settled 
in  this  beggarly  wooden  country.  Girls,  who  were  scarcely 
able  to  wash  a  floor  decently,  talked  of  service  with  contempt, 
unless  tempted  to  change  their  resolution  by  the  offer  of 
twelve  dollars  a  month.  To  endeavour  to  undeceive  them 
was  a  useless  and  ungracious  task.  After  having  tried  it  with 
several  without  success,  I  left  it  to  time  and  bitter  experience 
to  restore  them  to  their  sober  senses.  In  spite  of  the  remon 
strances  of  the  captain,  and  the  dread  of  the  cholera,  they  all 
rushed  on  shore  to  inspect  the  land  of  Goshen,  and  to  en 
deavour  to  realize  their  absurd  anticipations. 

We  were  favoured,  a  few  minutes  after  our  arrival,  with 
another  visit  from  the  health-officers ;  but  in  this  instance  both 
the  gentlemen  were  Canadians.  Grave,  melancholy-looking 
men,  who  talked  much  and  ©minously  of  the  prevailing  dis- 


QUEBEC.  V.y-  15 

order,  and  the  impossibility  of  strangers  escaping  from  its 
fearful  ravages.  This  was  not  very  consoling,  and  served  to 
depress  the  cheerful  tone  of  mind  which,  after  all,  is  one  of 
the  best  antidotes  against  this  awful  scourge.  The  cabin 
seemed  to  lighten,  and  the  air  to  circulate  more  freely,  after 
the  departure  of  these  professional  ravens.  The  captain,  as 
if  by  instinct,  took  an  additional  glass  of  grog,  to  shake  off  the 
sepulchral  gloom  their  presence  had  inspired. 

The  visit  of  the  doctors  was  followed  by  that  of  two  of  the 
officials  of  the  Customs  ; — vulgar,  illiterate  men,  who,  seating 
themselves  at  the  cabin  table,  with  a  familiar  nod  to  the 
captain,  and  a  blank  stare  at  us,  commenced  the  following 
dialogue : — 

Custom-house  officer  (after  making  inquiries  as  to  the 
general  cargo  of  the  vessel)  : — "  Any  good  brandy  on  board, 
captain  1" 

Captain  (gruffly)  :  «  Yes." 

Officer  :  "  Best  remedy  for  the  cholera  known.  The  only 
one  the  doctors  can  depend  upon." 

Captain  (taking  the  hint) :  "  Gentlemen,  I'll  send  you  up  a 
dozen  bottles  this  afternoon." 

Officer  :  "  Oh,  thank  you.  We  are  sure  to  get  it  genuine 
from  you.  Any  Edinburgh  ale  in  your  freight  ?" 

Captain  (with  a  slight  shrug)  :  "A  few  hundreds  in  cases. 
I'll  send  you  a  dozen  with  the  brandy." 

Both:  "Capital!" 

First  officer :  "  Any  short,  large-bowled,  Scotch  pipes,  with 
metallic  lids  1" 

Captain  (quite  impatiently) :  "  Yes,  yes ;  I'll  send  you 
some  to  smoke,  with  the  brandy. — What  else  ?" 

Officer  :  "  We  will  now  proceed  to  business." 

My  readers  would  have  laughed,  as  I  did,  could  they  have 
seen  how  doggedly  the  old  man  shook  his  fist  after  these  wor- 


16  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

thies  as  they  left  the  vessel.  "  Scoundrels  !"  he  muttered  to 
himself;  and  then  turning  to  me,  "  They  rob  us  in  this  bare 
faced  manner,  and  we  dare  not  resist  or  complain,  for  fear  of 
the  trouble  they  can  put  us  to.  If  I  had  those  villains  at  sea, 
I'd  give  them  a  taste  of  brandy  and  ale  that  they  would  not 
relish." 

Towards  night,  most  of  the  steerage  passengers  returned, 
greatly  dissatisfied  with  their  first  visit  to  the  city,  which  they 
declared  to  be  a  filthy  hole,  that  looked  a  great  deal  better 
from  the  ship's  side  than  it  did  on  shore.  A  dark  and  starless 
night  closed  in,  accompanied  by  cold  winds  and  drizzling  rain. 
We  seemed  to  have  made  a  sudden  leap  from  the  torrid  to 
the  frigid  zone.  Two  hours  before,  my  light  summer  clothing 
was  almost  insupportable,  and  now  a  heavy  and  well-lined 
plaid  formed  but  an  insufficient  screen  from  the  inclemency 
of  the  weather.  After  watching  for  some  time  the  singular 
effect  produced  by  the  lights  in  the  town  reflected  in  the 
water,  and  weary  with  a  long  day  of  anticipation  and  excite 
ment,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  the  deck  and  retire  to 
rest.  I  had  just  settled  down  my  baby  in  her  berth,  when 
the  vessel  struck,  with  a  sudden  crash  that  sent  a  shiver 
through  her  whole  frame.  Alarmed,  but  not  aware  of  the 
real  danger  that  hung  over  us,  I  groped  my  way  to  the  cabin, 
and  thence  ascended  to  the  deck. 

Here  a  scene  of  confusion  prevailed  that  baffles  description. 
By  some  strange  fatality,  the  Horsley  Hill  had  changed  her 
position,  and  ran  foul  of  us  in  the  dark.  The  Anne  was  a 
small  brig,  and  her  unlucky  neighbour  a  heavy,  three-masted 
vessel,  with  three  hundred  Irish  emigrants  on  board ;  and  as 
her  bosvsprit  was  directly  across  the  bows  of  the  Anne,  and 
she  anchored,  and  unable  to  free  herself  from  the  deadly 
embrace,  there  was  no  small  danger  of  the  poor  brig  going 
down  in  the  unequal  struggle. 


QUEBEC.  17 

Unable  to  comprehend  what  was  going  on,  I  raised  my 
head  above  the  companion  ladder,  just  at  the  critical  moment 
when  the  vessels  were  grappled  together.  The  shrieks  of  the 
women,  the  shouts  and  oaths  of  the  men,  and  the  barking  of 
the  dogs  in  either  ship,  aided  the  dense  darkness  of  the  night 
in  producing  a  most  awful  and  stunning  effect.  The  captain 
was  raging  like  a  chafed  bull,  in  the  grasp  of  several  frantic 
women,  who  were  clinging,  shrieking,  to  his  knees. 

With  great  difficulty  I  persuaded  the  women  to  accompany 
me  below.  The  mate  hurried  off  with  the  cabin  light  upon 
the  deck,  and  we  were  left  in  total  darkness  to  await  the 
result. 

When  tranquillity  was  restored,  fatigued  both  in  mind  and 
body,  I  sunk  into  a  profound  sleep,  and  did  not  awake  until 
the  sun  had  risen  high  above  the  wave-encircled  fortress  of 
Quebec.  The  stormy  clouds  had  all  dispersed  during  the 
night;  the  air  was  clear  and  balmy;  the  giant  hills  were 
robed  in  a  blue,  soft  mist,  which  rolled  around  them  in  fleecy 
volumes.  As  the  beams  of  the  sun  penetrated  their  shadowy 
folds,  they  gradually  drew  up  like  a  curtain,  and  dissolved 
like  wreaths  of  smoke  into  the  clear  air. 

During  the  day,  many  of  our  passengers  took  their  de 
parture  ;  tired  of  the  close  confinement  of  the  ship,  and  the 
long  voyage,  they  were  too  impatient  to  remain  on  board 
until  we  reached  Montreal.  The  mechanics  obtained  instant 
employment,  and  the  girls  who  were  old  enough  to  work, 
procured  situations  as  servants  in  the  city.  Before  night,  our 
numbers  were  greatly  reduced.  The  old  dragoon  and  his 
family,  two  Scotch  fiddlers  of  the  name  of  Duncan,  a  High 
lander  called  Tarn  Grant,  and  his  wife  and  little  son,  and  our 
own  party,  were  all  that  remained  of  the  seventy -two  passen 
gers  that  left  the  Port  of  Leith  in  the  brig  Anne. 

In  spite  of  the  earnest  entreaties  of  his  young  wife,  the  said 


18  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

Tarn  Grant,  who  was  the  most  mercurial  fellow  in  the  world, 
would  insist  upon  going  on  shore  to  see  all  the  lions  of  the 
place.  "  Ah,  Tarn  !  Tarn  !  ye  will  die  o'  the  cholera,"  cried 
the  weeping  Maggie.  "  My  heart  will  brak  if  ye  dinna  bide 
wi'  me  an'  the  bairnie."  Tarn  was  as  deaf  as  Ailsa  Craig. 
Regardless  of  tears  and  entreaties,  he  jumped  into  the  boat, 
like  a  wilful  man  as  he  was,  and  my  husband  went  with  him. 
Fortunately  for  me,  the  latter  returned  safe  to  the  vessel,  in 
time  to  proceed  with  her  to  Montreal,  in  tow  of  the  noble 
steamer  British  America  ;  but  Tarn,  the  volatile  Tarn,  was 
missing.  During  the  reign  of  the  cholera,  what  at  another 
time  would  have  appeared  but  a  trifling  incident,  was  now 
invested  with  doubt  and  terror.  The  distress  of  the  poor 
wife  knew  no  bounds.  I  think  I  see  her  now,  as  I  saw  her 
then,  sitting  upon  the  floor  of  the  deck,  her  head  buried  be 
tween  her  knees,  rocking  herself  to  and  fro,  and  weeping  in 
the  utter  abandonment  of  her  grief.  "  He  is  dead  !  he  is 
dead !  My  dear,  dear  Tarn !  The  pestilence  has  seized 
upon  him ;  and  I  and  the  puir  bairn  are  left  alone  in  the 
strange  land."  All  attempts  at  consolation  were  useless ; 
she  obstinately  refused  to  listen  to  probabilities,  or  to  be 
comforted.  All  through  the  night  I  heard  her  deep  and 
bitter  sobs,  and  the  oft-repeated  name  of  him  that  she  had 
lost. 

The  -sun  was  sinking  over  the  plague-stricken  city,  gilding 
the  changing  woods  and  mountain-peaks  with  ruddy  light; 
the  river  mirrored  back  the  gorgeous  sky,  and  moved  in  bil 
lows  of  liquid  gold ;  the  very  air  seemed  lighted  up  with 
heavenly  fires,  and  sparkled  with  myriads  of  luminous  parti 
cles,  as  I  gazed  my  last  upon  that  beautiful  scene. 

The  tow-line  was  now  attached  from  our  ship  to  the  British 
America,  and  in  company  with  two  other  vessels,  we  followed 
fast  in  her  foaming  wake.  Day  lingered  on  tho  horizon  just 


QVEBEO.  I 

long  enough  to  enable  me  to  examine,  with  deep  interest,  the 
rocky  heights  of  Abraham,  the  scene  of  our  immortal  Wolfe's 
victory  and  death ;  and  when  the  twilight  faded  into  night, 
the  moon  arose  in  solemn  beauty,  and  cast  mysterious  gleams 
upon  the  strange,  stern  landscape.  The  wide  river,  flowing 
rapidly  between  its  rugged  banks,  rolled  in  inky  blackness 
beneath  the  overshadowing  crags;  while  the  waves  in  mid- 
channel  flashed  along  in  dazzling  light,  rendered  more  intense 
by  the  surrounding  darkness.  In  this  luminous  track  the 
huge  steamer  glided  majestically  forward,  flinging  showers  of 
red  earth-stars  from  the  funnel  into  the  clear  air,  and  looking 
like  some  fiery  demon  of  the  night  enveloped  in  smoke  and 
flame. 

The  lofty  groves  of  pine  frowned  down  in  hearse-like 
gloom  upon  the  mighty  river,  and  the  deep  stillness  of  the 
night,  broken  alone  by  its  hoarse  wailings,  filled  my  mind 
with  sad  forebodings, — alas !  too  prophetic  of  the  future. 

From  these  sad  reveries  I  was  roused  by  the  hoarse  notes 
of  the  bagpipe.  That  well-known  sound  brought  every 
Scotchman  upon  deck,  and  set  every  limb  in  motion  on  tho 
decks  of  the  other  vessels.  Determined  not  to  be  outdone, 
our  fiddlers  took  up  the  strain,  and  a  lively  contest  ensued 
between  the  rival  musicians,  which  continued  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  night.  The  shouts  of  noisy  revelry  were 
in  no  way  congenial  to  my  feelings.  Nothing  tends  so  much 
to  increase  our  melancholy  as  merry  music  when  the  heart  is 
sad  ;  and  I  left  the  scene  with  eyes  brimful  of  tears,  and  my 
mind  painfully  agitated  by  sorrowful  recollections  and  vain 
regrets. 


20  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSK. 


CHAPTER  III 

OUR  JOURNEY  UP  THE  COUNTRY. 

OF  Montreal  I  can  say  but  little.  The  cholera  was  at  its 
height,  and  the  fear  of  infection,  which  increased  the  nearer 
we  approached  its  shores,  cast  a  gloom  over  the  scene,  and 
prevented  us  from  exploring  its  infected  streets.  That  the 
feelings  of  all  on  board  very  nearly  resembled  our  own  might 
be  read  in  the  anxious  faces  of  both  passengers  and  crew. 
Our  captain,  who  had  never  before  hinted  that  he  entertained 
any  apprehensions  on  the  subject,  now  confided  to  us  his  con 
viction  that  he  should  never  quit  the  city  alive :  "  This  cursed 
cholera !  Left  it  in  Russia — found  it  on  my  return  to  Leith — 
meets  me  again  in  Canada.  No  escape  the  third  time." 

Montreal  from  the  river  wears  a  pleasing  aspect,  but  it 
lacks  the  grandeur,  the  stern  sublimity  of  Quebec.  The  fine 
mountain  that  forms  the  background  to  the  city,  the  Island  of 
St.  Helens  in  front,  and  the  junction  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and 
the  Ottawa, — which  run  side  by  side,  their  respective  bound 
aries  only  marked  by  a  long  ripple  of  white  foam,  and  the 
darker  blue  tint  of  the  former  river, — constitute  the  most 
remarkable  features  in  the  landscape.  The  town  itself  was, 
at  that  period,  dirty  and  ill-paved ;  and  the  opening  of  all 
the  sewers,  in  order  to  purify  the  place  and  stop  the  ravages 
of  the  pestilence,  rendered  the  public  thoroughfares  almost 
impassable,  and  loaded  the  air  with  intolerable  effluvia,  more 
likely  to  produce  than  stay  the  course  of  the  plague,  the 


OUR  JOURNEY  UP  THE  COUNTRY.  21 

violence  of  which  had,  in  all  probability,  been  increased  by 
these  long-neglected  receptacles  of  uncleanliness.  The  dismal 
stories  told  us  by  the  excise-officer  who  came  to  inspect  the 
unloading  of  the  vessel,  of  the  frightful  ravages  of  the  cholera, 
by  no  means  increased  our  desire  to  go  on  shore. 

"  It  will  be  a  miracle  if  you  escape,"  he  said.  "  Hundreds 
of  emigrants  die  daily ;  and  if  Stephen  Ayres  had  not  provi 
dentially  come  among  us,  not  a  soul  would  have  been  alive  at 
this  moment  in  Montreal." 

"  And  who  is  Stephen  Ayres  1"  said  I. 

"  God  only  knows,"  was  the  grave  reply.  "  There  was  a 
man  sent  from  heaven,  and  his  name  was  John." 

"  But  I  thought  this  man  was  called  Stephen  ?" 

"Ay,  so  he  calls  himself;  but  'tis  certain  that  he  is  not  of 
the  earth.  Flesh  and  blood  could  never  do  what  he  has  done, 
— the  hand  of  God  is  in  it.  Besides,  no  one  knows  who  he 
is,  or  whence  he  comes.  When  the  cholera  was  at  the  worst, 
and  the  hearts  of  all  men  stood  still  with  fear,  and  our  doctors 
could  do  nothing  to  stop  its  progress,  this  man,  or  angel,  or 
saint,  suddenly  made  his  appearance  in  our  streets.  He  came 
in  great  humility,  seated  in  an  ox-cart,  and  drawn  by  two  lean 
oxen  and  a  rope  harness.  Only  think  of  that !  Such  a  man 
in  an  old  ox-cart,  drawn  by  rope  harness!  The  thing  itself 
was  a  miracle.  He  made  no  parade  about  what  he  could  do, 
but  only  fixed  up  a  plain  pasteboard  notice,  informing  the 
public  that  he  possessed  an  infallible  remedy  for  the  cholera, 
and  would  engage  to  cure  all  who  sent  for  him." 

"  And  was  he  successful  ?" 

"  Successful !  It  beats  all  belief;  and  his  remedy  so  sim 
ple  !  For  some  days  we  all  took  him  for  a  quack,  and  would 
have  no  faith  in  him  at  all,  although  he  performed  some  won 
derful  cures  upon  poor  folks,  who  could  not  afford  to  send  for 
the  doctor.  The  Indian  village  was  attacked  by  the  disease, 


22  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  JBVSff. 

and  he  went  out  to  them,  and  restored  upwards  of  a  hundred 
of  the  Indians  to  perfect  health.  They  took  the  old  lean  oxen 
out  of  the  cart,  and  drew  him  back  to  Montreal  in  triumph. 
This  'stablished  him  at  once,  and  hi  a  few  days'  time  he  made 
a  fortune.  The  very  doctors  sent  for  him  to  cure  them  ;  and 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  in  a  few  days  he  will  banish  the  cholera 
from  the  city." 

"  Do  you  know  his  famous  remedy  ?" 

"  Do  I  not  1 — Did  he  not  cure  me  when  I  was  at  the  last 
gasp  ?  Why,  he  makes  no  secret  of  it.  It  is  all  drawn  from 
the  maple-tree.  First  he  rubs  the  patient  all  over  with  an 
ointment,  made  of  hog's  lard  and  maple-sugar  and  ashes,  from 
the  maple-tree ;  and  he  gives  him  a  hot  draught  of  maple- 
sugar  and  ley,  which  throws  him  into  a  violent  perspiration. 
In  about  an  hour  the  cramps  subside ;  he  falls  into  a  quiet 
sleep,  and  when  he  awakes  he  is  perfectly  restored  to  health." 
Such  were  our  first  tidings  of  Stephen  Ayres,  the  cholera 
doctor,  who  is  universally  believed  to  have  effected  some 
wonderful  cures.  He  obtained  a  wide  celebrity  throughout 
the  colony.* 

The  day  of  our  arrival  in  the  port  of  Montreal  was  spent 
in  packing  and  preparing  for  our  long  journey  up  the  country. 
At  sunset,  I  went  upon  deck  to  enjoy  the  refreshing  breeze 
that  swept  from  the  river.  The  evening  was  delightful  •  the 
white  tents  of  the  soldiers  on  the  Island  of  St.  Helens  glittered 
in  the  beams  of  the  sun,  and  the  bugle-call,  wafted  over  the 
waters,  sounded  so  cheery  and  inspiring,  that  it  banished  all 
fears  of  the  cholera,  and,  with  fear,  the  heavy  gloom  that  had 
clouded  my  mind  since  we  left  Quebec.  I  could  once  more 

*  A  friend  of  mine,  in  this  town,  has  an  original  portrait  of  this  notable 
empiric — this  man  aent  from  heaven.  The  face  is  rather  handsome,  but 
lias  a  keen,  designing  expression,  and  is  evidently  that  of  an  American, 
from  its  complexion  and  features. 


OUR  JOURNEY  UP  THE  COUNTRY.  23 

hold  sweet  converse  with  nature,  and  enjoy  the  soft  loveliness 
of  the  rich  and  harmonious  scene. 

In  the  morning  we  were  obliged  to  visit  the  city  to  make 
the  necessary  arrangements  for  our  upward  journey.  The 
day  was  intensely  hot.  A  bank  of  thunder-clouds  lowered 
heavily  above  the  mountain,  and  the  close,  dusty  streets  were 
silent,  and  nearly  deserted.  Here  and  there  might  be  seen  a 
group  of  anxious-looking,  care-worn,  sickly  emigrants,  seated 
against  a  wall  among  their  packages,  and  sadly  ruminating 
upon  their  future  prospects. 

The  sullen  toll  of  the  death-bell,  the  exposure  of  ready-made 
coffins  in  the  undertakers'  windows,  and  the  oft-recurring 
notice  placarded  on  the  walls,  of  funerals  furnished  at  such 
and  such  a  place,  at  cheapest  rate  and  shortest  notice,  pain 
fully  reminded  us,  at  every  turning  of  the  street,  that  death 
was  every  where — perhaps  lurking  in  our  very  path  ;  we  felt 
no  desire  to  examine  the  beauties  of  the  place.  With  this 
ominous  feeling  pervading  our  minds,  public  buildings  pos 
sessed  few  attractions,  and  we  determined  to  make  our  stay 
as  short  as  possible.  Compared  with  tlqg  infected  city,  our 
ship  appeared  an  ark  of  safety,  and  we  returned  to  it  with  joy 
and  confidence,  too  soon  to  be  destroyed.  We  had  scarcely 
re-entered  our  cabin,  when  tidings  were  brought  to  us  that  the 
cholera  had  made  its  appearance :  a  brother  of  the  captain 
had  been  attacked. 

It  was  advisable  that  we  should  leave  the  vessel  imme 
diately,  before  the  intelligence  could  reach  the  health-officers. 
A  few  minutes  sufficed  to  make  the  necessary  preparations ; 
and  in  less  than  half-an-hour  we  found  ourselves  occupying 
comfortable  apartments  in  Goodenough's  hotel,  and  our  pas 
sage  taken  in  the  stage  for  the  following  morning. 

The  transition  was  like  a  dream.  The  change  from  the 
close,  rank  ship,  to  large,  airy,  well-furnished  rooms  and  clean 


24  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  EUSH. 

attendants,  was  a  luxury  we  should  have  enjoyed  had  not  the 
dread  of  the  cholera  involved  all  things  around  us  in  gloom, 
and  apprehension.  No  one  spoke  upon  the  subject ;  and  yet 
it  was  evident  that  it  was  uppermost  in  the  thoughts  of  all. 
Several  emigrants  had  died  of  the  terrible  disease  during  the 
week,  beneath  the  very  roof  that  sheltered  us,  and  its  ravages, 
we  were  told,  had  extended  to  the  country  as  far  as  Kings 
ton  ;  so  that  it  was  still  to  be  the  phantom  of  our  coming 
journey,  if  we  were  fortunate  enough  to  escape  from  its  head 
quarters. 

At  six  o'clock  the  following  morning,  we  took  our  places 
in  the  coach  for  Lachine,  and  our  fears  of  the  plague  greatly 
diminished  as  we  left  the  spires  of  Montreal  in  the  distance. 
The  journey  from  Montreal  westward  has  been  so  well 
described  by  many  gifted  pens,  that  I  shall  say  little  about  it. 
The  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  are  picturesque  and  beautiful, 
particularly  in  those  spots  where  there  is  a  good  view  of  the 
American  side.  The  neat  farm-houses  looked  to  me,  whose 
eyes  had  been  so  long  accustomed  to  the  watery  waste,  homes 
of  beauty  and  happiness  ;  and  the  splendid  orchards,  the  trees 
at  that  season  of  the  year  being  loaded  with  ripening  fruit  of 
all  hues,  were  refreshing  and  delicious. 

My  partiality  for  the  apples  was  regarded  by  a  fellow- 
traveller  with  a  species  of  horror.  "  Touch  them  not,  if  you 
value  your  life."  Every  draught  of  fresh  air  and  water 
inspired  me  with  renewed  health  and  spirits,  and  I  disregarded 
the  well-meant  advice  ;  the  gentleman  who  gave  it  had  just 
recovered  from  the  terrible  disease.  He  was  a  middle-aged 
man,  a  farmer  from  the  Upper  Province,  Canadian  born.  He 
had  visited  Montreal  on  business  for  the  first  time.  "  Well, 
sir,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  some  questions  put  to  him  by  my 
husband  respecting  the  disease,  "  I  can  tell  you  what  it  is ;  a 
man  smitten  with  the  cholera  stares  death  right  in  the  face ; 


OUR  JOURNEY  UP  THE  COUNTRY.  25 

and  the  torment  he  is  suffering  is  so  great  that  he  would 
gladly  die  to  get  rid  of  it" 

"  You  were  fortunate,  C ,  to  escape,"  said  a  backwoods 

settler,  who  occupied  the  opposite  seat ;  "  many  a  younger 
man  has  died  of  it." 

"  Ay  ;  but  I  believe  I  never  should  have  taken  it  had  it 
not  been  for  some  things  they  gave  me  for  supper  at  the  hotel ; 
oysters,  they  called  them,  oysters  ;  they  were  alive  !  I  was 
once  persuaded  by  a  friend  to  eat  them,  and  I  liked  them 
well  enough  at  the  time.  But  I  declare  to  you  that  I  felt  them 
crawling  over  one  another  in  my  stomach  all  night.  The  next 
morning  I  was  seized  with  the  cholera." 

"  Did  you  swallow  them  whole,  C ?"  said  the  former 

spokesman,  who  seemed  highly  tickled  about  the  evil  doings 
of  the  oysters. 

"  To  be  sure.  I  tell  you,  the  creatures  were  alive.  You 
put  them  on  your  tongue,  and  I'll  be  bound  you'll  be  glad  to 
let  them  slip  down  as  fast  as  you  can." 

"  No  wonder  you  had  the  cholera,"  said  the  backwoodsman, 
"  you  deserved  it  for  your  barbarity.  If  I  had  a  good  plate 
of  oysters  here,  I'd  teach  you  the  way  to  eat  them." 

Our  journey  during  the  first  day  was  performed  partly  by 
coach,  partly  by  steam.  It  was  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening 
when  we  landed  at  Cornwall,  and  took  coach  for  Prescott. 
The  country  through  which  we  passed  appeared  beautiful  in 
the  clear  light  of  the  moon  ;  but  the  air  was  cold,  and  slightly 
sharpened  by  frost.  This  seemed  strange  to  me  in  the  early 
part  of  September,  but  it  is  very  common  in  Canada.  Nine 
passengers  were  closely  packed  into  our  narrow  vehicle,  but 
the  sides  being  of  canvas,  and  the  open  spa^e  allowed  for 
windows  unglazed,  I  shivered  with  cold,  which  amounted  to 
a  state  of  suffering  when  the  day  broke,  and  we  approached 
the  little  village  of  Matilda.  It  was  unanimously  voted  by  all 


26  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  SUSff. 

hands  that  we  should  stop  and  breakfast  at  a  small  inn  by 
the  roadside,  and  warm  ourselves  before  proceeding  to 
Prescott. 

The  people  in  the  tavern  were  not  stirring,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  an  old  white-headed  man  unclosed  the  door,  and 
showed  us  into  a  room,  redolent  with  fumes  of  tobacco,  andl 
darkened  by  paper  blinds.  I  asked  him  if  he  would  allow 
me  to  take  my  infant  into  a  room  with  a  fire. 

"  I  guess  it  was  a  pretty  considerable  cold  sight  for  the 
like  of  her,"  said  he.  "  Come,  Til  show  yon  to  the  kitchen  ; 
there's  always  a  fire  there."  ]  cheerfully  followed,  accompa 
nied  by  our  servant. 

Our  entrance  was  unexpected,  and  by  no  means  agreeable 
to  the  persons  we  found  there.  A  half-clothed,  red-haired 
Irish  servant  was  upon  her  knees,  kindling  up  the  fire  j  a;nd  a 
long,  thin  woman,  with  a  sharp  £*ce,  and  an  eye  like  a  black 
snake,  was  just  emerging  from  a  bed  in  the  corner.  We  soon 
discovered  this  apparition  to  be  the  mistress  of  the  house. 

"  The  people  can't  come  in  Jtere  f  she  screamed  in  a  shrill 
voice,  darting  daggers  at  the  poor  old  man. 

"  Sure  there's  a  baby,  and  tbe  two  women  critters  are  per 
ished  with  cold,"  pleaded  the  good  old  man. 

"  What's  that  to  me  ?  They  have  no  business  iti  my 
kitchen." 

"  Now,  Almira,  clo  hold  on.  ItTs  the  coach  has  stopped  to 
breakfast  with  us;  and  you  know  we  don't  often  get  the 
chance." 

All  this  time  the  fair  Almira  was  dressing  as  last  as  sie- 
could,  and  eyeing  her  unwelcome  female  guests,  as  we  s8oo<3 
shivering  over  the  fire. 

"  Breakfast !"  she  muttered,  "  what  can  we  give  them  to 
eat  1  They  pass  our  door  a  thousand  times  without  any  one 
alighting;  and  now,  when  we  are  out  of  every  thing,  they  nmast 


OUR  JOURNEY  UP  THE  COUNTRY.  27 

stop  and  order  breakfast  at  such  an  unseasonable  hour.     How 
many  are  there  of  you  f  turning  fiercely  to  me. 

"Nine,"  I  answered,  laconically,  continuing  to  chafe  the 
cold  hands  and  feet  of  the  child. 

"  Nine !  That  bit  of  beef  will  be  nothing  cut  into  steaks 
for  nine.  What's  to  be  done,  Joe  ?"  (to  the  old  man.) 

"  Eggs  and  ham,  summat  of  that  dried  venison,  and  pumpkin 
pie,"  responded  the  aide-de-camp,  thoughtfully.  "  I  don't  know 
of  any  other  fixings." 

"  Bestir  yourself,  then,  and  lay  out  the  table,  for  the  coach 
can't  stay  long,"  cried  the  virago,  seizing  a  frying-pan  from 
the  wall,  and  preparing  it  for  the  reception  of  the  eggs  and 
ham.  "  I  must  have  the  fire  to  myself.  People  can't  come 
crowding  here,  when  I  have  to  fix  breakfast  for  nine  ;  particu 
larly  when  there  is  a  good  room  elsewhere  provided  for  their 
accommodation."  I  took  the  hint,  and  retreated  to  the  par 
lour,  where  I  found  the  rest  of  the  passengers  walking  to  and 
fro,  and  impatiently  awaiting  the  advent  of  the  breakfast. 

To  do  Almira  justice,  she  prepared  from  her  scanty  mate 
rials  a  very  substantial  breakfast  in  an  incredibly  short  time, 
for  which  she  charged  us  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  per  head. 

At  Prescott  we  embarked  on  board  a  fine  new  steamboat, 
William  IV.,  crowded  with  Irish  emigrants,  proceeding  to 
Cobourg  and  Toronto. 

While  pacing  the  deck,  my  husband  was  greatly  struck  by 
the  appearance  of  a  middle-aged  man  and  his  wife,  who  sat 
apart  from  the  rest,  and  seemed  struggling  with  intense  grief, 
which,  in  spite  of  all  their  efforts  at  concealment,  was  strongly 
impressed  upon  their  features.  Some  time  after,  I  fell  into 
conversation  with  the  woman,  from  whom  I  learned  their 
little  history.  The  husband  was  factor  to  a  Scotch  gentle 
man,  of  large  landed  property,  who  had  employed  him  to 
visit  Canada,  and  reuort  the  capabilities  of  the  country,  prior 


28  Rommm  IT  or  THE  ZUSH. 

to  his  investing  a  large  sum  of  money  in  wild  lands.  The  ex 
penses  of  their  voyage  had  been  paid,  and  every  thing  up  to 
that  morning  had  prospered  with  them.  They  had  been 
blessed  with  a  speedy  passage,  and  were  greatly  pleased  with 
the  country  and  the  people  ;  but  of  what  avail  was  all  this  1 
Their  only  son,  a  fine  lad  of  fourteen,  had  died  that  day  of  the 
cholera,  and  all  their  hopes  of  the  future  were  buried  in  his 
grave.  For  his  sake  they  had  sought  a  home  in  this  far  land ; 
and  here,  at  the  very  onset  of  their  new  career,  the  fell  dis 
ease  had  taken  him  from  them  for  ever, — here,  where,  in 
such  a  crowd,  the  poor  heart-broken  mother  could  not  even 
indulge  her  natural  grief ! 

"  Ah,  for  a  place  where  I  might  greet !"  she  said ;  "  it  would 
relieve  the  burning  weight  at  my  heart.  But  with  sae  many 
strange  eyes  glowering  upon  me,  I  tak'  shame  to  mysel'  to 
greet." 

"  Ah,  Jeannie,  my  puir  woman,"  said  the  husband,  grasp 
ing  her  hand,  "  ye  maun  bear  up ;  'tis  God's  will ;  an  sinfu' 
creatures  like  us  mauna  repine.  But  oh,  madam,"  turning  to 
me,  "  we  have  sair  hearts  the  day !" 

At  Brockville  we  took  in  a  party  of  ladies,  which  some 
what  relieved  the  monotony  of  the  cabin,  and  I  was  amused 
by  listening  to  their  lively  prattle,  and  the  little  gossip  with 
which  they  strove  to  while  away  the  tedium  of  the  voyage. 
The  day  was  too  stormy  to  go  upon  deck, — thunder  and 
lightning,  accompanied  with  torrents  of  rain.  Amid  the  con 
fusion  of  elements,  I  tried  to  get  a  peep  at  the  Lake  of  the 
Thousand  Isles ;  but  the  driving  storm  blended  all  objects 
into  one,  and  I  returned  wet  and  disappointed  to  my  berth. 
We  passed  Kingston  at  midnight,  and  lost  all  our  lady  pas 
sengers  but  two.  The  gale  continued  until  daybreak,  and 
noise  and  confusion  prevailed  all  night,  which  was  greatly  in 
creased  by  the  uproarious  conduct  of  a  wild  Irish  emigrant, 


OUR  JOURNEY  UP  THE  COUNTRY.  29 

who  thought  fit  to  make  his  bed  upon  the  mat  before  the 
cabin  door.  He  sang,  he  shouted,  he  harangued  his  country 
men  on  the  political  state  of  the  Emerald  Isle,  in  a  style 
which  was  loud  if  not  eloquent.  Sleep  was  impossible,  whilst 
his  stentorian  lungs  continued  to  pour  forth  torrents  of  un 
meaning  sound. 

Our  Dutch  stewardess  was  highly  enraged.  His  con 
duct,  she  said,  "  was  perfectly  ondacent."  She  opened  the 
door,  and  bestowing  upon  him  several  kicks,  bade  him  get 
away  "  out  of  that,"  or  she  would  complain  to  the  captain. 

In  answer  to  this  remonstrance,  he  caught  her  by  the  foot-, 
and  pulled  her  down.  Then  \vaving  the  tattered  remains  of 
his  straw  hat  in  the  air,  he  shouted  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
"  Git  out  wid  you.  you  ould  witch !  Shure  the  ladies,  the 
purty  darlints,  never  sent  you  wid  that '  ugly  message  to  Pat,' 
who  loves  them  so  intirely  that  he  manes  to  kape  watch 
over  them  through  the  blessed  night."  Then  making  a  ludi 
crous  bow,  he  continued,  "  Ladies,  I'm  at  your  sarvice  :  I  only 
wish  I  could  get  a  dispensation  from  the  Pope,  and  I'd  marry 
yeas  all."  The  stewardess  bolted  the  door,  and  the  mad  fel 
low  kept  up  such  a  racket  that  we  all  wished  him  at  the  bot 
tom  of  the  Ontario. 

The  following  day  was  wet  and  gloomy.  The  storm  had 
protracted  the  length  of  our  voyage  for  several  hours,  and  it 
was  midnight  when  we  landed  at  Cobourg. 


30  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTEE    IV. 


TOM    WILSON   S    EMIGRATION. 


"  Of  all  odd  fellows,  this  fellow  was  the  oddest.    I  have  seen  many  strange  fish 
in  my  days,  but  I  never  met  with  his  equal." 


ABOUT  a  month  previous  to  our  emigration  to  Canada,  my 
husband  said  to  me,  "You  need  not  expect  me  home 
to  dinner  to-day ;  I  am  going  with  my  friend  Wilson  to 

Y to  hear  Mr.  C lecture  upon  emigration  to  Canada. 

He  has  just  returned  from  the  North  American  provinces, 
and  his  lectures  are  attended  by  vast  numbers  of  persons  who 
are  anxious  to  obtain  information  on  the  subject.  I  got  a  note 

from  your  friend  B this  morning,  begging  me  to  come 

over  and  listen  to  his  palaver ;  and  as  Wilson  thinks  of  emi 
grating  in  the  spring,  he  will  be  my  walking  companion." 

"  Tom  Wilson  going  to  Canada  !"  said  I,  as  the  door  closed 
on  my  better-half.  "  What  a  backwoodsman  he  will  make  ! 

What  a  loss  to  the  single  ladies  of  S !  What  will  they 

do  without  him  at  their  balls  and  picnics  ?" 

One  of  my  sisters,  who  was  writing  at  a  table  near  me, 
was  highly  amused  at  this  unexpected  announcement.  She 
fell  back  in  her  chair  and  indulged  in  a  long  and  hearty  laugh. 
I  am  certain  that  most  of  my  readers  would  have  joined  in 
her  laugh  had  they  known  the  object  wKich  provoked  her 
mirth.  "  Poor  Tom  is  such  a  dreamer,"  said  my  sister,  "  it 
would  be  an  act  of  charity  in  Moodie  to  persuade  him  from 


TOM  WILSONS  EMIGRATION.  31 

undertaking  such  a  wild-goose  chase ;  only  that  1  fancy  my 
good  brother  is  possessed  with  the  same  mania." 

"  Nay,  God  forbid  !"  said  I.     "  I  hope  this  Mr. ,  with 

the  unpronounceable  name,  will  disgust  them  with  his  elo 
quence  ;  for  B writes  me  word,  in  his  droll  way,  that  he 

is  a  coarse,  vulgar  fellow,  and  lacks  the  dignity  of  a  bear. 
Oh !  I  am  certain  they  will  return  quite  sickened  with  the 
Canadian  project."  Thus  I  laid  the  flattering  unction  to  my 
soul,  little  dreaming  that  I  and  mine  should  share  in  the 
strange  adventures  of  this  oddest  of  all  odd  creatures. 

It  might  be  made  a  subject  of  curious  inquiry  to  those  who 
delight  in  human  absurdities,  if  ever  there  were  a  character 
drawn  in  works  of  fiction  so  extravagantly  ridiculous  as  some 
which  daily  experience  presents  to  our  view.  We  have  en 
countered  people  in  the  broad  thoroughfares  of  life  more  eccen 
tric  than  ever  we  read  of  in  books ;  people  who,  if  all  their 
foolish  sayings  and  doings  were  duly  recorded,  would  vie  with 
the  drollest  creations  of  Hood,  or  George  Colman,  and  put  to 
shame  the  flights  of  Baron  Munchausen.  Not  that  Tom  Wil 
son  was  a  romancer ;  oh,  no !  He  was  the  very  prose  of 
prose,  a  man  in  a  mist,  who  seemed  afraid  of  moving  about 
for  fear  of  knocking  his  head  against  a  tree,  and  finding  a  hal 
ter  suspended  to  its  branches — a  man  as  helpless  and  as  indo 
lent  as  a  baby. 

Mr.  Thomas,  or  Tom  Wilson,  as  he  was  familiarly  called 
by  all  his  friends  and  acquaintances,  was  the  son  of  a  gentle 
man,  who  once  possessed  a  large  landed  property  in  the  neigh 
bourhood  ;  but  an  extravagant  and  profligate  expenditure  of 
the  income  which  he  derived  from  a  fine  estate  which  had 
descended  from  father  to  son  through  many  generations,  had 
greatly  reduced  the  circumstances  of  the  elder  Wilson.  Still, 
his  family  held  a  certain  rank  and  standing  in  their  native 
county,  of  which  his  evil  courses,  bad  as  they  were,  could  not 


32  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

wholly  deprive  them.  The  young  people — and  a  very  large 
family  they  made  of  sons  and  daughters,  twelve  in  number — 
were  objects  of  interest  and  commiseration  to  all  who  knew 
them,  while  the  worthless  father  was  justly  held  in  contempt 
and  detestation.  Our  hero  was  the  youngest  of  the  six  sons ; 
and  from  his  childhood  he  was  famous  for  his  nothing-to-doish- 
ness.  He  was  too  indolent  to  engage  heart  and  soul  in  the 
manly  sports  of  his  comrades ;  and  he  never  thought  it  neces 
sary  to  commence  learning  his  lessons  until  the  school  had 
been  in  an  hour.  As  he  grew  up  to  man's  estate,  he  might 
be  seen  dawdling  about  in  a  black  frock-coat,  jean  trowsers, 
and  white  kid  gloves,  making  lazy  bows  to  the  pretty  girls  of 
his  acquaintance ;  or  dressed  in  a  green  shooting-jacket,  with 
a  gun  across  his  shoulder,  sauntering  down  the  wooded  lanes, 
with  a  brown  spaniel  dodging  at  his  heels,  and  looking  as 
sleepy  and  indolent  as  his  master. 

The  slowness  of  all  Tom's  movements  was  strangely  con 
trasted  with  his  slight,  elegant,  and  symmetrical  figure ;  that 
looked  as  if  it  only  awaited  the  will  of  the  owner  to  be  the 
most  active  piece  of  human  machinery  that  ever  responded  to 
the  impulses  of  youth  and  health.  But  then,  his  face !  What 
pencil  could  faithfully  delineate  features  at  once  so  comical 
and  lugubrious — features  that  one  moment  expressed  the 
most  solemn  seriousness,  and  the  next,  the  most  grotesque 
and  absurd  abandonment  to  mirth?  In  him,  all  extremes 
appeared  to  meet;  the  man  was  a  contradiction  to  himself. 
Tom  was  a  person  of  few  words,  and  so  intensely  lazy  that  it 
required  a  strong  effort  of  will  to  enable  him  to  answer  the 
questions  of  inquiring  friends ;  and  when  at  length  aroused  to 
exercise  his  colloquial  powers,  he  performed  the  task  in  so 
original  a  manner  that  it  never  failed  to  upset  the  gravity  of 
the  interrogator.  When  he  raised  his  large,  prominent, 
leaden-coloured  eyes  from-  the  ground,  and  looked  the  inquirer 


TOM  WILSONS  EMIGRATION.  33 

steadily  in   the  face,  the  effect  was  irresistible;    the  laugh 
would  come, — do  your  best  to  resist  it. 

Poor  Tom  took  this  mistimed  merriment  in  very  good  part, 
generally  answering  with  a  ghastly  contortion  which  he  meant 
for  a  smile,  or,  if  he  did  trouble  himself  to  find  words,  with, 
"Well,  that's  funny!  What  makes  you  laugh?  At  me  I 
suppose  1  I  don't  wonder  at  it ;  I  often  laugh  at  myself." 

Tom  would  have  been  a  treasure  to  an  undertaker.  He 
would  have  been  celebrated  as  a  mute ;  he  looked  as  if  he  had 
been  born  in  a  shroud,  and  rocked  in  a  coffin.  The  gravity 
with  which  he  could  answer  a  ridiculous  or  impertinent  ques 
tion  completely  disarmed  and  turned  the  shafts  of  malice  back 
upon  his  opponent.  If  Tom  was  himself  an  object  of  ridicule 
to  many,  he  had  a  way  of  quietly  ridiculing  others  that  bade 
defiance  to  all  competition.  He  could  quiz  with  a  smile,  and 
put  down  insolence  with  an  incredulous  stare.  A  grave  wink 
from  those  dreamy  eyes  would  destroy  the  veracity  of  a  trav 
elled  dandy  for  ever. 

Tom  was  not  without  use  in  his  day  and  generation ;  queer 
and  awkward  as  he  was,  he  was  the  soul  of  truth  and  honour. 
You  might  suspect  his  sanity — a  matter  always  doubtful — 
but  his  honesty  of  heart  and  purpose,  never.  When  you  met 
Tom  in  the  streets,  he  was  dressed  with  such  neatness  and 
care  (to  be  sure  it  took  him  half  a  day  to  make  his  toilet), 
that  it  led  many  persons  to  imagine  that  this  very  ugly  young 
man  considered  himself  an  Adonis ;  and  I  must  confess 
that  I  rather  inclined  to  this  opinion.  He  always  paced  the 
public  streets  with  a  slow,  deliberate  tread,  and  with  his  eyes 
fixed  intently  on  the  ground — like  a  man  who  had  lost  his 
ideas,  and  was  diligently  employed  in  searching  for  them.  I 
chanced  to  meet  him  one  day  in  this  dreamy  mood. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Wilson  ]"  He  stared  at  me  for 
several  minutes,  as  if  doubtful  of  my  presence  or  identity. 

2* 


34  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  What  was  that  you  said  ?" 

I  repeated  the  question ;  and  he  answered,  with  one  of  his 
incredulous  smiles, 

"  Was  it  to  me  you  spoke  1  Oh,  I  am  quite  well,  or  I 
should  not  be  walking  here.  By  the  way,  did  you  see  my 
dog?" 

"  How  should  I  know  your  dog  *?" 

"  They  say  he  resembles  me.  He's  a  queer  dog,  too ;  but 
I  never  could  find  out  the  likeness.  Good  night !" 

This  was  at  noonday ;  but  Tom  had  a  habit  of  taking  light 
for  darkness,  and  darkness  for  light,  in  all  he  did  or  said. 
He  must  have  had  different  eyes  and  ears,  and  a  different  way 
of  seeing,  hearing,  and  comprehending,  than  is  possessed  by 
the  generality  of  his  species :  and  to  such  a  length  did  he 
carry  this  abstraction  of  soul  and  sense,  that  he  would  often 
leave  you  abruptly  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence ;  and  if  you 
chanced  to  meet  him  some  weeks  after,  he  would  resume  the 
conversation  with  the  very  word  at  which  he  had  cut  short 
the  thread  of  your  discourse.  A  lady  once  told  him  in  jest 
that  her  youngest  brother,  a  lad  of  twelve  years  old,  had 
called  his  donkey  Braham,  in  honour  of  the  great  singer  of 
that  name.  Tom  made  no  answer,  but  started  abruptly  away. 
Three  months  after,  she  happened  to  encounter  him  on  the 
same  spot,  when  he  accosted  her,  without  any  previous  salu 
tation, 

"  You  were  telling  me  about  a  donkey,  Miss ,  a 

donkey  of  your  brother's — Braharn,  I  think  you  called  him — 
yes,  Braham ;  a  strange  name  for  an  ass !  I  wonder  what 
the  great  Mr.  Braham  would  say  to  that.  Ha,  ha,  ha !" 

"  Your  memory  must  be  excellent,  Mr.  Wilson,  to  enable 
you  to  remember  such  a  trifling  circumstance  all  this  time." 

"  Trifling,  do  you  call  it1?  Why,  I  have  thought  of  nothing 
else  ever  since." 


TOM  WILSONS  EMIGRATION.  35 

From  traits  such  as  these  my  readers  will  be  tempted  to 
imagine  him  brother  to  the  animal  who  had  dwelt  so  long 
in  his  thoughts ;  but  there  were  times  when  he  surmounted 
this  strange  absence  of  mind,  and  could  talk  and  act  as  sensi 
bly  as  other  folks. 

On  the  death  of  his  father,  he  emigrated  to  New  South 
Wales,  where  he  contrived  to  doze  away  seven  years  of  his 
valueless  existence,  suffering  his  convict  servants  to  rob  him 
of  every  thing,  and  finally  to  burn  his  dwelling.  He  returned 
to  his  native  village,  dressed  as  an  Italian  mendicant,  with  a 
monkey  perched  upon  his  shoulder,  and  playing  airs  of  his 
own  composition  upon  a  hurdy-gurdy.  In  this  disguise  he 
sought  the  dwelling  of  an  old  bachelor  uncle,  and  solicited  his 
charity.  But  who  that  had  once  seen  our  friend  Tom  could 
ever  forget  him  ?  Nature  had  no  counterpart  of  one  who  in 
mind  and  form  was  alike  original.  The  good-natured  old 
soldier,  at  a  glance,  discovered  his  hopeful  nephew,  received 
him  into  his  house  with  kindness,  and  had  afforded  him  an 
asylum  ever  since.  One  little  anecdote  of  him  at  this  period 
will  illustrate  the  quiet  love  of  mischief  with  which  he  was 
imbued.  Travelling  from  W to  London  in  a  stage 
coach  (railways  were  not  invented  in  those  days),  he  entered 
into  conversation  with  an  intelligent  farmer  who  sat  next  him ; 
New  South  Wales,  and  his  residence  in  that  colony,  forming 
the  leading  topic.  A  dissenting  minister  who  happened  to  be 
his  vis-a-vis,  and  who  had  annoyed  him  by  making  several 
impertinent  remarks,  suddenly  asked  him,  with  a  sneer,  how 
many  years  he  had  been  there. 

"  Seven,"  returned  Tom,  in  a  solemn  tone,  without  deigning 
a  glance  at  his  companion. 

"  I  thought  so,"  responded  the  other,  thrusting  his  hands 
into  his  breeches  pockets.  "  And  pray,  sir,  what  were  you 
sent  therefor?" 


36  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH, 

"  Stealing  pigs,"  returned  the  incorrigible  Tom,  with  the 
gravity  of  a  judge.  The  words  were  scarcely  pronounced 
when  the  questioner  called  the  coachman  to  stop,  preferring 
a  ride  outside  in  the  rain  to  a  seat  within  with  a  thief.  Tom 
greatly  enjoyed  the  hoax,  which  he  used  to  tell  with  the  mer 
riest  of  all  grave  faces.  Besides  being  a  devoted  admirer  of  the 
fair  sex,  and  always  imagining  himself  in  love  with  some  un 
attainable  beauty,  he  had  a  passionate  craze  for  music,  and 
played  upon  the  violin  and  flute  with  considerable  taste  and 
execution.  The  sound  of  a  favourite  melody  operated  upon 
the  breathing  automaton  like  magic,  his  frozen  faculties 
experienced  a  sudden  thaw,  and  the  stream  of  life  leaped  and 
gambolled  for  a  while  with  uncontrollable  vivacity.  He 
laughed,  danced,  sang,  and  made  love  in  a  breath,  committing 
a  thousand  mad  vagaries  to  make  you  acquainted  with  his 
existence. 

My  husband  had  a  remarkably  sweet-toned  flute,  and  this 
flute  Tom  regarded  with  a  species  of  idolatry. 

"  I  break  the  Tenth  Commandment,  Moodie,  whenever  I 
hear  you  play  upon  that  flute.  Take  care  of  your  black 
wife,"  (a  name  he  had  bestowed  upon  the  coveted  treasure,) 
"  or  I  shall  certainly  run  off  with  her." 

"  I  am  half  afraid  of  you,  Tom.  I  am  sure  if  I  were  to 
die,  and  leave  you  my  black  wife  as  a  legacy,  you  would  be 
too  much  overjoyed  to  lament  my  death." 

Such  was  the  strange,  helpless,  whimsical  being  who  now 
contemplated  an  emigration  to  Canada.  How  he  succeeded 
in  the  speculation  the  sequel  will  show. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  before  my  husband  and  his 

friend  Tom  Wilson  returned  from  Y .  I  had  provided 

a  hot  supper  and  a  cup  of  coffee  after  their  long  walk,  and 
they  did  ample  justice  to  my  care.  Tom  was  in  unusually 


TOM  WILSON'S  EMIGRATION.  37 

high  spirits,  and  appeared  wholly  bent  upon  his  Canadian  ex 
pedition. 

«  Mr.  C must  have  been  very  eloquent,  Mr.  Wilson," 

said  I,  "  to  engage  your  attention  for  so  many  hours." 

"  Perhaps  he  was,"  returned  Tom,  after  a  pause  of  some 
minutes,  during  which  he  seemed  to  be  groping  for  words  in 
the  salt-cellar,  having  deliberately  turned  out  its  contents  upon 
the  table-cloth.  "  We  were  hungry  after  our  long  walk,  and 
he  gave  us  an  excellent  dinner." 

"But  that  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  substance  of  his 
lecture." 

"  It  was  the  substance,  after  all,"  said  Moodie,  laughing ; 
"  and  his  audience  seemed  to  think  so,  by  the  attention  they 
paid  to  it  during  the  discussion.  But,  come,  Wilson,  give  my 
wife  some  account  of  the  intellectual  part  of  the  entertain 
ment." 

"  What !  I — I — I — I  give  an  account  of  the  lecture  ?  Why, 
my  dear  fellow,  I  never  listened  to  one  word  of  it !" 

"  I  thought  you  went  to  Y on  purpose  to  obtain  in 
formation  on  the  subject  of  emigration  to  Canada  ?" 

"  Well,  and  so  I  did ;  but  when  the  fellow  pulled  out  his 
pamphlet,  and  said  that  it  contained  the  substance  of  his  lec 
ture,  and  would  only  cost  a  shilling,  I  thought  that  it  was 
better  to  secure  the  substance  than  endeavour  to  catch  the 
shadow — so  I  bought  the  book,  and  spared  myself  the  pain  of 
listening  to  the  oratory  of  the  writer.  Mrs.  Moodie,  he  had 
a  shocking  delivery,  a  drawling,  vulgar  voice  ;  and  he  spoke 
with  such  a  nasal  twang  that  I  could  not  bear  to  look  at  him, 
or  listen  to  him.  He  made  such  grammatical  blunders,  that 
my  sides  ached  with  laughing  at  him.  Oh,  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  the  wretch  !  But  here  is  the  document,  written  in 
the  same  style  in  which  it  was  spoken.  Read  it :  you  have 
a  rich  treat  in  store." 


38  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

I  took  the  pamphlet,  not  a  little  amused  at  his  description 
of  Mr.  C ,  for  whom  I  felt  an  uncharitable  dislike. 

"And  how  did  you  contrive  to  entertain  yourself,  Mr. 
Wilson,  during  his  long  address  ?" 

"  By  thinking  how  many  fools  were  collected  together,  to 
listen  to  one  greater  than  the  rest.  By  the  way,  Moodie,  did 
you  notice  farmer  Flitch  1" 

"No;  where  did  he  sit T' 

"  At  the  foot  of  the  table.  You  must  have  seen  him,  he 
was  too  big  to  be  overlooked.  What  a  delightful  squint  he 
had  !  What  a  ridiculous  likeness  there  was  between  him  and 
the  roast  pig  he  was  carving !  I  was  wondering  all  dinner 
time  how  that  man  contrived  to  cut  up  that  pig  ;  for  one  eye 
was  fixed  upon  the  ceiling,  and  the  other  leering  very  affec 
tionately  at  me.  It  was  very  droll ;  was  it  not  ?" 

"  And  what  do  you  intend  doing  with  yourself  when  you 
arrive  in  Canada?"  said  I. 

"  Find  out  some  large  hollow  tree,  and  live,  like  Bruin  in 
the  winter,  by  sucking  my  paws.  In  the  summer  there  will  be 
plenty  of  mast  and  acorns  to  satisfy  the  wants  of  an  abste 
mious  fellow." 

"  But,  joking  apart,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  my  husband, 
anxious  to  induce  him  to  abandon  a  scheme  so  hopeless,  "  do 
you  think  that  you  are  at  all  qualified  for  a  life  of  toil  and 
hardship  ?" 

'''•Are  you  ?"  returned  Torn,  raising  his  large,  bushy,  black 
eyebrows  to  the  top  of  his  forehead,  and  fixing  his  leaden 
eyes  steadfastly  upon  his  interrogator,  with  an  air  of  such  ab 
surd  gravity  that  we  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  Now  what  do  you  laugh  for  ?  I  am  sure  I  asked  you  a 
very  serious  question." 

"  But  your  method  of  putting  it  is  so  unusual  that  you 
must  excuse  us  for  laughing." 


TOM  WILSOWS  EMIGRATION.  39 

n  I  don't  want  you  to  weep,"  said  Tom ;  "  but  as  to  our 
qualifications,  Moodie,  I  think  them  pretty  equal.  I  know 
you  think  otherwise,  but  I  will  explain.  Let  me  see ;  what 
was  I  going  to  say  1 — ah,  I  have  it !  You  go  with  the  inten 
tion  of  clearing  land,  and  working  for  yourself,  and  doing  a 
great  deal.  I  have  tried  that  before  in  New  South  Wales, 
and  I  know  that  it  won't  answer.  Gentlemen  can't  work  like 
labourers,  and  if  they  could,  they  won't — it  is  not  in  them, 
and  that  you  will  find  out.  You  expect,  by  going  to  Canada, 
to  make  your  fortune,  or  at  least  secure  a  comfortable  inde 
pendence.  I  anticipate  no  such  results ;  yet  I  mean  to  go, 
partly  out  of  a  whim,  partly  to  satisfy  my  curiosity  whether 
it  is  a  better  country  than  New  South  Wales ;  and  lastly,  in 
the  hope  of  bettering  my  condition  in  a  small  way,  which  at 
present  is  so  bad  that  it  can  scarcely  be  worse.  I  mean  to 
purchase  a  farm  with  the  three  hundred  pounds  I  received  last 
week  from  the  sale  of  my  father's  property ;  and  if  the  Cana 
dian  soil  yields  only  half  what  Mr.  C says  it  does,  I  need 

not  starve.  But  the  refined  habits  in  which  you  have  been 
brought  up,  and  your  unfortunate  literary  propensities — (I  say 
unfortunate,  because  you  will  seldom  meet  people  in  a  colony 
who  can  or  will  sympathize  with  you  in  these  pursuits) — they 
will  make  you  an  object  of  mistrust  and  envy  to  those  who 
cannot  appreciate  them,  and  will  be  a  source  of  constant  mor 
tification  and  disappointment  to  yourself.  Thank  God !  I  have 
no  literary  propensities ;  but  in  spite  of  the  latter  advantage, 
in  all  probability  I  shall  make  no  exertion  at  all ;  so  that  your 
energy,  damped  by  disgust  and  disappointment,  and  my  lazi 
ness,  will  end  in  the  same  thing,  and  we  shall  both  return  like 
bad  pennies  to  our  native  shores.  But,  as  I  have  neither  wife 
nor  child  to  involve  in  my  failure,  I  think,  without  much  self- 
flattery,  that  my  prospects  are  better  than  yours." 

This  was  the  longest  speech  I  ever  heard  Tom  utter ;  and, 


"40  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  XUSff. 

evidently  astonished  at  himself,  he  sprang  abruptly  from  the 
table,  overset  a  cup  of  coffee  into  my  lap,  and  wishing  us 
good-day  (it  was  eleven  o'clock  at  night),  he  ran  out  of  the 
house. 

There  was  more  truth  in  poor  Tom's  words  than  at  that 
moment  we  were  willing  to  allow ;  for  youth  and  hope  were 
on  our  side  in  those  days,  and  we  were  most  ready  to  believe 
the  suggestions  of  the  latter. 

My  husband  finally  determined  to  emigrate  to  Canada, 
and  in  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  a  sudden  preparation  to  de 
part,  Tom  and  his  affairs  for  a  while  were  forgotten. 

How  dark  and  heavily  did  that  frightful  anticipation  weigh 
upon  my  heart !  As  the  time  for  our  departure  drew  near, 
the  thought  of  leaving  my  friends  and  native  land  became  so 
intensely  painful  that  it  haunted  me  even  in  sleep.  I  seldom 
awoke  without  finding  my  pillow  wet  with  tears.  The  glory 
of  May  was  upon  the  earth — of  an  English  May.  The  woods 
were  bursting  into  leaf,  the  meadows  and  hedge-rows  were 
flushed  with  flowers,  and  every  grove  and  copsewood  echoed 
to  the  warblings  of  birds  and  the  humming  of  bees.  To  leave 
England  at  all  was  dreadful — to  leave  her  at  such  a  season 
was  doubly  so.  I  went  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  old  Hall,  the 
beloved  home  of  my  childhood  and  youth ;  to  wander  once 
more  beneath  the  shade  of  its  venerable  oaks — to  rest  once 
more  upon  the  velvet  sward  that  carpeted  their  roots.  It  was 
while  reposing  beneath  those  noble  trees  that  I  had  first  in 
dulged  in  those  delicious  dreams  which  are  a  foretaste  of  the 
enjoyments  of  the  spirit-land.  In  them  the  soul  breathes  forth 
its  aspirations  in  a  language  unknown  to  common  minds  ;  and 
that  language  is  Poetry.  Here  annually,  from  year  to  year, 
I  had  renewed  my  friendship  with  the  first  primroses  and  vio 
lets,  and  listened  with  the  untiring  ear  of  love  to  the  spring 
roundelay  of  the  blackbird,  whistled  from  among  his  bower 


TOM:  WILSONS  EMIGRATION.  41 

of  May  blossoms.  Here,  I  had  discoursed  sweet  words  to  the 
tinkling  brook,  and  learned  from  the  melody  of  waters  the 
music  of  natural  sounds.  In  these  beloved  solitudes  all  the 
holy  emotions  which  stir  the  human  heart  in  its  depths  had 
been  freely  poured  forth,  and  found  a  response  in  the  harmo 
nious  voice  of  Nature,  bearing  aloft  the  choral  song  of  earth 
to  the  throne  of  the  Creator. 

Dear,  dear  England !  why  was  I  forced  by  a  stern  neces 
sity  to  leave  you  1  What  heinous  crime  had  I  committed, 
that  I,  who  adored  you,  should  be  torn  from  your  sacred 
bosom,  to  pine  out  my  joyless  existence  in  a  foreign  clime? 
Oh,  that  I  might  be  permitted  to  return  and  die  upon  your 
wave-encircled  shores,  and  rest  my  weary  head  and  heart  be 
neath  your  daisy-covered  sod  at  last ! 

****** 

Whilst  talking  over  our  coming  separation  with  my  sister 

C ,  we  observed  Tom  Wilson  walking  slowly  up  the 

path  that  led  to  the  house.  He  was  dressed  in  a  new  shoot 
ing-jacket,  with  his  gun  lying  carelessly  across  his  shoulder, 
and  an  ugly  pointer  dog  following  at  a  little  distance. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Moodie,  I  am  off,"  said  Tom,  shaking  hands 
with  my  sister  instead  of  me.  "  I  suppose  I  shall  see  Moodie 
in  London.  What  do  you  think  of  my  dog  ?"  patting  him 
affectionately. 

"  I  think  him  an  ugly  beast,"  said  C .  "  Do  you  mean 

to  take  him  with  you  ?" 

"  An  ugly  beast ! — Duchess  a  beast  1  Why  she  is  a  per 
fect  beauty  ! — Beauty  and  the  beast !  Ha,  ha,  ha !  I  gave  two 
guineas  for  her  last  night."  (I  thought  of  the  old  adage.) 
"  Mrs.  Moodie,  your  sister  is  no  judge  of  a  dog." 

"  Very  likely,"  returned  C ,  laughing.  "  And  you  go 

to  town  to-night,  Mr.  Wilson  ?  I  thought  as  you  came  up  to 
the  house  that  you  were  equipped  for  shooting." 


42  SOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  To  be  sure ;  there  is  capital  shooting  in  Canada." 

"  So  I  have  heard — plenty  of  bears  and  wolves.  I  suppose 
you  take  out  your  dog  and  gun  in  anticipation!" 

"True,"  said  Tom. 

"  But  you  surely  are  not  going  to  take  that  dog  with  you  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  am.  She  is  a  most  valuable  brute.  The  very 
best  venture  I  could  take.  My  brother  Charles  has  engaged 
our  passage  in  the  same  vessel." 

"  It  would  be  a  pity  to  .part  you,"  said  I.  "  May  you 
Drove  as  lucky  a  pair  as  Whittington  and  his  cat." 

"  Whittington !  Whittington !"  said  Tom,  staring  at  my 
sister,  and  beginning  to  dream,  which  he  invariably  did  in  the 
company  of  women.  "  Who  was  the  gentleman  ?" 

"  A  very  old  friend  of  mine,  one  whom  I  have  known 
since  I  was  a  very  little  girl,"  said  my  sister ;  "  but  I  have  not 
time  to  tell  you  more  about  him  now.  If  you  go  to  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard,  and  inquire  for  Sir  Richard  Whittington  and  his 
cat,  you  will  get  his  history  for  a  mere  trifle." 

"  Do  not  mind  her,  Mr.  Wilson,  she  is  quizzing  you," 
quoth  I ;  "  I  wish  you  a  safe  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  ;  I 
wish  I  could  add  a  happy  meeting  with  your  friends.  But 
where  shall  we  find  friends  in  a  strange  land  ?" 

"  All  in  good  time,"  said  Tom.  "  I  hope  to  have  the  pleas 
ure  of  meeting  you  in  the  backwoods  of  Canada  before  three 
months  are  over.  What  adventures  we  shall  have  to  tell  one 
another !  It  will  be  capital.  Good-bye." 

****** 

"  Tom  has  sailed,"  said  Captain  Charles  Wilson,  stepping 
into  my  little  parlour  a  few  days  after  his  eccentric  brother's 
last  visit.  "  I  saw  him  and  Duchess  safe  on  board.  Odd  as 
he  is,  I  parted  with  him  with  a  full  heart ;  I  felt  as  if  we  never 
should  meet  again.  Poor  Tom !  he  is  the  only  brother  left 
me  now  that  I  can  love.  Robert  and  I  never  agreed  very 


TOM:  WILSONS  EMIGRATION.  43 

well,  and  there  is  little  chance  of  our  meeting  in  this  world. 
He  is  married,  and  settled  down  for  life  in  New  South  Wales ; 
and  the  rest,  John,  Richard,  George,  are  all  gone — -all !" 

"  Was  Tom  in  good  spirits  when  you  parted  ]" 

"  Yes.  He  is  a  perfect  contradiction.  He  always  laughs 
and  cries  in  the  wrong  place.  '  Charles,'  he  said,  with  a  loud 
laugh,  '  tell  the  girls  to  get  some  new  music  against  I  return : 
and,  hark  ye  !  if  I  never  come  back,  I  leave  them  my  Kanga 
roo  Waltz  as  a  legacy.' " 

"  What  a  strange  creature  !" 

"  Strange,  indeed ;  you  don't  know  half  his  oddities.  He 
has  very  little  money  to  take  out  with  him,  but  he  actually 
paid  for  two  berths  in  the  ship,  that  he  might  not  chance  to 
have  a  person  who  snored  sleep  near  him.  Thirty  pounds 
thrown  away  upon  the  mere  chance  of  a  snoring  companion ! 
'  Besides,  Charles,'  quoth  he, '  I  cannot  endure  to  share  my  little 
cabin  with  others ;  they  will  use  my  towels,  and  combs,  and 
brushes,  like  that  confounded  rascal  who  slept  in  the  same 
berth  with  me  coming  from  New  South  Wales,  who  had  the 
impudence  to  clean  his  teeth  with  my  tooth-brush.  Here  I 
shall  be  alone,  happy  and  comfortable  as  a  prince,  and  Duch 
ess  shall  sleep  in  the  after-berth,  and  be  my  queen.'  And  so 
we  parted,"  continued  Captain  Charles.  "May  God  take 
care  of  him,  for  he  never  could  take  care  of  himself." 

"That  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  reason  he  gave  for  not 
going  with  us.  He  was  afraid  that  my  baby  would  keep  him 
awake  of  a  night.  He  hates  children,  and  says  that  he  never 
will  marry  on  that  account." 

****** 

We  left  the  British  shores  on  the  1st  of  July,  and  cast 
anchor,  as  I  have  already  shown,  under  the  Castle  of  St. 
Lewis,  at  Quebec,  on  the  2d  of  September,  1832.  Tom 
Wilson  sailed  the  1st  of  May,  and  had  a  speedy  passage,  and 


44  KOUGHINQ-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

was,  as  we  heard  from  his  friends,  comfortably  settled  in  the 
bush,  had  bought  a  farm,  and  meant  to  commence  operations 
in  the  fall.  All  this  was  good  news,  and  as  he  was  settled 
near  my  brother's  location,  we  congratulated  ourselves  that 
our  eccentric  friend  had  found  a  home  in  the  wilderness  at 
last,  and  that  we  should  soon  see  him  again. 

On  the  9th  of  September,  the  steamboat  William  IV. 

landed  us  at  the  then  small  but  rising  town  of ,  on  the 

Ontario.  The  night  was  dark  and  rainy;  the  boat  was 
crowded  with  emigrants;  and  when  we  arrived  at  the  inn, 
we  learnt  that  there  was  no  room  for  us — not  a  bed  to  be 
had ;  nor  was  it  likely,  owing  to  the  number  of  strangers  that 
had  arrived  for  several  weeks,  that  we  could  obtain  one  by 
searching  farther.  Moodie  requested  the  use  of  a  sofa  for  me 
during  the  night ;  but  even  that  produced  a  demur  from  the 
landlord.  Whilst  I  awaited  the  result  in  a  passage,  crowded 
with  strange  faces,  a  pair  of  eyes  glanced  upon  me  through 
the  throng.  Was  it  possible? — could  it  be  Tom  Wilson? 
Did  any  other  human  being  possess  such  eyes,  or  use  them  in 
such  an  eccentric  manner  ?  In  another  second  he  had  pushed 
his  way  to  my  side,  whispering  in  my  ear,  "  We  met,  'twas 
in  a  crowd." 

"Tom  Wilson,  is  that  you?" 

"  Do  you  doubt  it  ?  I  flatter  myself  that  there  is  no  like 
ness  of  such  a  handsome  fellow  to  be  found  in  the  world.  It 
is  I,  I  swear  ! — although  very  little  of  me  is  left  to  swear  by. 
The  best  part  of  me  I  have  left  to  fatten  the  mosquitoes  and 
black  flies  in  that  infernal  bush.  But  where  is  Moodie  ?" 

"There  he  is — trying  to  induce  Mr.  S ,  for  love  or 

money,  to  let  me  have  a  bed  for  the  night." 

"You  shall  have  mine,"  said  Tom.  "I  can  sleep  upon 
the  floor  of  the  parlour  in  a  blanket,  Indian  fashion.  It's  a 
bargain — I'll  go  and  settle  it  with  the  Yankee  directly ;  he'3 


TOM  WILSONS  EMIGRATION.  45 

the  best  fellow  in  the  world !  In  the  mean  while  here  is  a 
little  parlour,  which  is  a  joint-stock  affair  between  some  of  us 
young  hopefuls  for  the  time  being.  Step  in  here,  and  I  will 
go  for  Moodie ;  I  long  to  tell  him  what  I  think  of  this  con 
founded  country.  But  you  will  find  it  out  all  in  good  time ;" 
and,  rubbing  his  hands  together  with  a  most  lively  and  mis 
chievous  expression,  he  shouldered  his  way  through  trunks, 
and  boxes,  and  anxious  faces,  to  communicate  to  my  husband 
the  arrangement  he  had  so  kindly  made  for  us. 

"  Accept  this  gentleman's  offer,  sir,  till  to-morrow,"  said 

Mr.  S ,  "  I  can  then  make  more  comfortable  arrangements 

for  your  family;  but  we  are  crowded — crowded  to  excess. 
My  wife  and  daughters  are  obliged  to  sleep  in  a  little  chamber 
over  the  stable,  to  give  our  guests  more  room.  Hard  that,  I 
guess,  for  decent  people  to  locate  over  the  horses." 

These  matters  settled,  Moodie  returned  with  Tom  Wilson 
to  the  little  parlour,  in  which  I  had  already  made  myself  at 
home. 

"  Well,  now,  is  it  not  funny  that  I  should  be  the  first  to 
welcome  you  to  Canada  ?"  said  Tom. 

"  But  what  are  you  doing  here,  my  dear  fellow  ?" 

"  Shaking  every  day  with  the  ague.  But  I  could  laugh  in 
spite  of  my  teeth  to  hear  them  make  such  a  confounded  rat 
tling  ;  you  would  think  they  were  all  quarrelling  which  should 
first  get  out  of  my  mouth.  This  shaking  mania  forms  one  of 
the  chief  attractions  of  this  new  country." 

"  I  fear,"  said  I,  remarking  how  thin  and  pale  he  had  be 
come,  "  that  this  climate  cannot  agree  with  you." 

"  Nor  I  with  the  climate.  Well,  we  shall  soon  be  quits, 
for,  to  let  you  into  a  secret,  I  am  now  on  my  way  to  England." 

"  And  the  farm  ;  what  have  you  done  with  it  T' 

"  Sold  it." 

"  To  whom  1" 


46  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"To  one  who  will  take  better  care  of  both  than  I  did, 
Ah  !  such  a  country  ! — such  people  ! — such  rogues  !  It  beats 
Australia  hollow ;  you  know  your  customers  there — but  here 
you  have  to  find  them  out.  Such  a  take-in ! — God  forgive 
them  !  I  never  could  take  care  of  money ;  and,  one  way  or 
other,  they  have  cheated  me  out  of  all  mine.  I  have  scarcely 
enough  left  to  pay  my  passage  home.  But,  to  provide  against 
the  worst,  I  have  bought  a  young  bear,  a  splendid  fellow,  to 
make  my  peace  with  my  uncle.  You  must  see  him ;  he  is 
close  by  in  the  stable." 

"  To-morrow  we  will  pay  a  visit  to  Bruin ;  but  to-night 
do  tell  us  something  about  yourself,  and  your  residence  in  the 
bush." 

"  You  will  know  enough  about  the  bush  by  and  by.  I 
am  a  bad  historian,"  he  continued,  stretching  out  his  legs  and 
yawning  horribly,  "  a  worse  biographer.  I  never  can  find 
words  to  relate  facts.  But  I  will  try  what  I  can  do ;  mind, 
don't  laugh  at  my  blunders." 

We  promised  to  be  serious — no  easy  matter  while  looking 
at  and  listening  to  Tom  Wilson,  and  he  gave  us,  at  detached 
intervals,  the  following  account  of  himself : — 

"  My  troubles  began  at  sea.  We  had  a  fair  voyage,  and 
all  that ;  but  my  poor  dog,  my  beautiful  Duchess  ! — that 
beauty  in  the  beast — died.  I  wanted  to  read  the  funeral 
service  over  her,  but  the  captain  interfered — the  brute  ! — and 
threatened  to  throw  me  into  the  sea  along  with  the  dead 
bitch,  as  the  unmannerly  ruffian  persisted  in  calling  my  canine 
friend.  I  never  spoke  to  him  again  during  the  rest  of  the 
voyage.  Nothing  happened  worth  relating  until  I  got  to  this 
place,  where  I  chanced  to  meet  a  friend  who  knew  your  bro 
ther,  and  I  went  up  with  him  to  the  woods.  Most  of  the  wise 
men  of  Gotham  we  met  on  the  road  were  bound  to  the  woods ; 
so  I  felt  happy  that  I  was,  at  least,  in'  the  fashion.  Mr. 


TOM  WILSONS  EMIGRATION.  47 

was  very  kind,  and  spoke  in  raptures  of  the  woods,  which 
formed  the  theme  of  conversation  during  our  journey ;  their 
beauty,  their  vastness,  the  comfort  and  independence  enjoyed 
by  those  who  had  settled  in  them ;  and  he  so  inspired  me 
with  the  subject  that  I  did  nothing  all  day  but  sing  as  we  rode 
along — 

"  A  life  in  the  woods  for  me  j" 

until  we  came  to  the  woods,  and  then  I  soon  learned  to  sing 
that  same,  as  the  Irishman  says,  on  the  other  side  of  my 
mouth." 

Here  succeeded  a  long  pause,  during  which  friend  Tom 
seemed  mightily  tickled  with  his  reminiscences,  for  he  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  and  from  time  to  time  gave  way  to  loud, 
hollow  bursts  of  laughter. 

"  Tom,  Tom !  are  you  going  mad  ?"  said  my  husband, 
shaking  him. 

"  I  never  was  sane,  that  I  know  of,"  returned  he.  "  You 
know  that  it  runs  in  the  family.  But  do  let  me  have  my 
laugh  out.  The  woods !  Ha !  ha !  When  I  used  to  be 
roaming  through  those  woods,  shooting — though  not  a  thing 
could  I  ever  find  to  shoot,  for  birds  and  beasts  are  not  such 
fools  as  our  English  emigrants — and  I  chanced  to  think  of  you 
coming  to  spend  the  rest  of  your  lives  in  the  woods — I  used 
to  stop,  and  hold  my  sides,  and  laugh  until  the  woods  rang 
again.  It  was  the  only  consolation  I  had." 

"  Good  Heavens !"  said  I,  "  let  us  never  go  to  the  woods." 

"  You  will  repent  if  you  do,"  continued  Tom.  "  But  let 
me  proceed  on  my  journey.  My  bones  were  well-nigh  dis 
located  before  we  got  to  D .  The  roads  for  the  last 

twelve  miles  were  nothing  but  a  succession  of  mud-holes, 
covered  with  the  most  ingenious  invention  ever  thought  of  for 
racking  the  limbs,  called  corduroy  bridges ;  not  breeches, 


48  BOVGtfltfG  IT  IN  THE  BUSS. 

mind  you, — for  I  thought,  whilst  jolting  up  and  down  over 
them,  that  I  should  arrive  at  my  destination  minus  that  indis 
pensable  covering.  It  was  night  when  we  got  to  Mr. 's 

place.  I  was  tired  and  hungry,  my  face  disfigured  and  blis 
tered  by  the  unremitting  attentions  of  the  black-flies  that  rose 
in  swarms  from  the  river.  I  thought  to  get  a  private  room 
to  wash  and  dress  in,  but  there  is  no  such  thing  as  privacy  in 
this  country.  In  the  bush,  all  things  are  in  common ;  you 
cannot  even  get  a  bed  without  having  to  share  it  with  a  com 
panion.  A  bed  on  the  floor  in  a  public  sleeping-room ! 
Think  of  that ;  a  public  sleeping-room  ! — men,  women,  and 
children,  only  divided  by  a  paltry  curtain.  Oh,  ye  gods ! 
think  of  the  snoring,  squalling,  grumbling,  puffing ;  think  of 
the  kicking,  elbowing,  and  crowding ;  the  suffocating  heat — 
the  mosquitoes,  with  their  infernal  buzzing — and  you  will 
form  some  idea  of  the  misery  I  endured  the  first  night  of  my 
arrival  in  the  bush. 

"  But  these  are  not  half  the  evils  with  which  you  have  to 
contend.  You  are  pestered  with  nocturnal  visitants  far  more 
disagreeable  than  even  the  mosquitoes,  and  must  put  up  with 
annoyances  more  disgusting  than  the  crowded,  close  room. 
And  then,  to  appease  the  cravings  of  hunger,  fat  pork  is 
served  to  you  three  times  a-day.  No  wonder  that  the  Jews 
eschewed  the  vile  animal ;  they  were  people  of  taste.  Pork, 
morning,  noon,  and  night,  swimming  in  its  own  grease  !  The 
bishop  who  complained  of  partridges  every  day,  should  have 
been  condemned  to  three  months'  feeding  upon  pork  in  the 
bush  :  and  he  would  have  become  an  anchorite,  to  escape  the 
horrid  sight  of  swine's  flesh  for  ever  spread  before  him.  No 
wonder  I  am  thin :  I  have  been  starved — starved  upon  prit- 
ters  and  pork,  and  that  disgusting  specimen  of  unleavened 
bread,  yclept  cakes  in  the  pan. 

"  I  had  such  a  horror  of  the  pork  diet,  that  whenever  I  saw 


TOM  WILSONS  -EMIGRATION.  49 

the  dinner  in  progress  I  fled  to  the  canoe,  in  the  hope  of 
drowning  upon  the  waters  all  reminiscences  of  the  hateful 
banquet ;  but  even  here  the  very  fowls  of  the  air,  and  the 
reptiles  of  the  deep,  lifted  up  their  voices,  and  shouted, 
"Pork,  pork,  pork!" 

M remonstrated  with  his  friend  for   deserting  the 

country  for  such  minor  evils  as  these,  which,  after  all,  he 
said,  could  easily  be  borne. 

"  Easily  borne !"  exclaimed  the  indignant  Wilson.  "  Go 
and  try  them,  and  then  tell  me  that.  I  did  try  to  bear  them 
with  a  good  grace,  but  it  would  not  do.  I  offended  every  body 
with  rny  grumbling.  I  was  constantly  reminded  by  the  ladies 
of  the  house,  that  gentlemen  should  not  come  to  this  country 
without  they  were  able  to  put  up  with  a  little  inconvenience  : 
that  I  should  make  as  good  a  settler  as  a  butterfly  in  a  bee 
hive  :  that  it  was  impossible  to  be  nice  about  food  and  dress 
in  the  bush :  that  people  must  learn  to  eat  what  they  could 
get,  and  be  content  to  be  shabby  and  dirty,  like  their  neigh 
bours,  in  the  bush, — until  that  horrid  word,  bush,  became 
synonymous  with  all  that  was  hateful  and  revolting  in  my 
mind. 

"  It  was  impossible  to  keep  any  thing  to  myself.  The  chil 
dren  pulled  my  books  to  pieces  to  look  at  the  pictures  j  and 
an  impudent,  bare-legged  Irish  servant-girl  took  my  towels  to 
wipe  the  dishes  with,  and  my  clothes-brush  to  black  the  shoes 
— an  operation  which  she  performed  with  a  mixture  of  soot 
and  grease.  I  thought  I  should  be  better  off  in  a  place  of  my 
own,  so  I  bought  a  wild  farm  that  was  recommended  to  me, 
and  paid  for  it  double  what  it  was  worth.  When  I  came  to 
examine  my  estate,  I  found  there  was  no  house  upon  it,  and  I 
should  have  to  wait  until  the  fall  to  get  one  put  up,  and  a  few 
acres  cleared  for  cultivation.  I  was  glad  to  return  to  my  old 
quarters. 

3 


50  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  Finding  nothing  to  shoot  in  the  woods,  I  determined  to 

amuse  myself  with  fishing;  but  Mr. could  not  always  lend 

his  canoe,  and  there  was  no  other  to  be  had.  To  pass  away 
the  time,  I  set  about  making  one.  I  bought  an  axe,  and  went 
to  the  forest  to  select  a  tree.  About  a  mile  from  the  lake,  I 
found  the  largest  pine  I  ever  saw.  I  did  not  much  like  to  try 
my  maiden  hand  upon  it,  for  it  was  the  first  and  the  last  tree 
I  ever  cut  down.  But  to  it  I  went ;  and  I  blessed  God  that  it 
reached  the  ground  without  killing  me  in  its  way  thither. 
When  I  was  about  it,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  make  the 
canoe  big  enough;,  but  the  bulk  of  the  tree  deceived  me  in 
the  length  of  my  vessel,  and  I  forgot  to  measure  the  one  that 

belonged  to  Mr. ,  It  took  me  six  weeks  hollowing  it 

out,  and  when  it  was  finished,  it  was  as  long  as  a  sloop-of-war, 
and  too  unwieldy  for  all  the  oxen  in  the  township  to  draw  it 
to  the  water.  After  all  my  labour,  my  combats  with  those 
wood-demons,  the  black-flies,  sand-flies,  and  mosquitoes,  my 
boat  remains  a  useless  monument  of  my  industry.  And 
worse  than  this,  the  fatigue  I  had  endured  while  working  at  it 
late  and  early,  brought  on  the  ague ;  which  so  disgusted  me 
with  the  country  that  I  sold  my  farm  and  all  my  traps  for  an 
old  song :  purchased  Bruin  to  bear  me  company  on  my  voy 
age  home ;  and  the  moment  I  am  able  to  get  rid  of  this  tor 
menting  fever,  I  am  off" 

Argument  and  remonstrance  were  alike  in  vain,  he  could 
not  be  dissuaded  from  his  purpose.  Tom  was  as  obstinate  as 
his  bear. 

The  next  morning  he  conducted  us  to  the  stable  to  see 
Bruin.  The  young  denizen  of  the  forest  was  tied  to  the 
manger,  quietly  masticating  a  cob  of  Indjan  corn,  which  he 
held  in  his  paw,  and  looked  half  human  as  he  s  at  upon  his 
haunches,  regarding  us  with  a  solemn,  melancholy  air.  There 
was  an  extraordinary  likeness,  quite  ludicrous,  between  Tom 


TOM  WILSOWS  EMIGRATION.  51 

and  the  bear.  We  said  nothing,  but  exchanged  glances.  Tom 
read  our  thoughts. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  there  is  a  strong  resemblance  ;  I  saw  it 
when  I  bought  him.  Perhaps  we  are  brothers ;"  and  taking 
in  his  hand  the  chain  that  held  the  bear,  he  bestowed  upon 
him  sundry  fraternal  caresses,  which  the  ungrateful  Bruin, 
returned  with  low  and  savage  growls. 

"  He  can't  flatter.  He's  all  truth  and  sincerity.  A  child 
of  nature,  and  worthy  to  be  my  friend ;  the  only  Canadian  I 
ever  mean  to  acknowledge  as  such." 

About  an  hour  after  this,  poor  Tom  was  shaking  with  ague, 
which  in  a  few  days  reduced  him  so  low  that  I  began  to  think 
he  would  never  see  his  native  shores  again.  He  bore  the 
affliction  very  philosophically,  and  all  his  well  days  he  spent 
with  us. 

One  day  my  husband  was  absent,  having  accompanied  Mr. 

S to  inspect  a  farm,  which  he  afterwards  purchased,  and 

I  had  to  get  through  the  long  day  at  the  inn  in  the  best  man 
ner  I  could.  The  local  papers  were  soon  exhausted.  At 
that  period  they  possessed  little  or  no  interest  for  me.  I  was 
astonished  and  disgusted  at  the  abusive  manner  in  which 
they  were  written,  the  freedom  of  the  press  being  enjoyed  to 
an  extent  in  this  province  unknown  in  more  civilized  com- 
munities. 

Men,  in  Canada,  may  call  one  another  rogues  and  mis 
creants,  in  the  most  approved  Billingsgate,  through  the  medium 
of  the  newspapers,  which  are  a  sort  of  safety-valve  to  let  off  all 
the  bad  feelings  and  malignant  passions  floating  through  the 
country,  without  any  dread  of  the  horsewhip.  Hence  it  is 
the  commonest  thing  in  the  world  to  hear  one  editor  abusing, 
like  a  pickpocket,  an  opposition  brother ;  calling  him  a  reptile 
— a  crawling  thing — a  calumniator — a  hired  vendor  of  lies  / 
and  his  paper  a  smut-machine — a  vile  engine  of  corruption,  as 


52  nomiUNG-  IT  iff  TUB 


base  and  degraded  as  the  proprietor,  &c.  Of  this  description 
was  the  paper  I  now  held  in  my  hand,  which  had  the  impu 
dence  to  style  itself  the  Reformer  —  not  of  morals  or  manners, 
certainly,  if  one  might  judge  by  the  vulgar  abuse  that  defiled 
every  page  of  the  precious  document.  I  soon  flung  it  from 
me,  thinking  it  worthy  of  the  fate  of  many  a  better  production 
in  the  olden  times,  that  of  being  burned  by  the  common  hang 
man  ;  but,  happily,  the  office  of  hangman  has  become  obsolete 
in  Canada,  and  the  editors  of  these  refined  journals  may  go  on 
abusing  their  betters  with  impunity. 

Books  I  had  none,  and  I  wished  that  Tom  would  make  his 
appearance,  and  amuse  me  with  his  oddities  ;  but  he  had 
suffered  so  much  from  the  ague  the  day  before,  that  when  he 
did  enter  the  room  to  lead  me  to  dinner,  he  looked  like  a 
walking  corpse  —  the  dead  among  the  living  !  so  dark,  so 
livid,  so  melancholy,  it  was  really  painful  to  look  upon 
him. 

"  I  hope  the  ladies  who  frequent  the  ordinary  won't  fall  in 
love  with  me,"  said  he,  grinning  at  himself  in  the  miserable 
looking-glass  that  formed  the  case  of  the  Yankee  clock,  and 
was  ostentatiously  displayed  on  a  side  table  ;  "  I  look  quite 
killing  to-day.  What  a  comfort  it  is,  Mrs.  M  -  ,  to  be 
above  all  rivalry." 

In  the  middle  of  dinner,  the  company  was  disturbed  by  the 
entrance  of  a  person  who  had  the  appearance  of  a  gentleman, 
but  who  was  evidently  much  flustered  with  drinking.  He 
thrust  his  chair  in  between  two  gentlemen  who  sat  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  and  in  a  loud  voice  demanded  fish. 

"  Fish,  sir  f  said  the  obsequious  waiter,  a  great  favourite 
with  all  persons  who  frequented  the  hotel  ;  "  there  is  no  fish, 
sir.  There  was  a  fine  salmon,  sir,  had  you  come  sooner  ; 
but  'tis  all  eaten,  sir." 

"  Then  fetch  me  some," 


TOM  WILSOWS  EMIGRATION.  53 

"  I'll  see  what  I  can  do,  sir,"  said  the  obliging  Tim,  hurrying 
out. 

Tom  Wilson  was  at  the  head  of  the  table,  carving  a  roast 
pig,  and  was  in  the  act  of  helping  a  lady,  when  the  rude  fellow 
thrust  his  fork  into  the  pig,  calling  out  as  he  did  so, 

"  Hold,  sir  !  give  me  some  of  that  pig  !  You  have  eaten 
among  you  all  the  fish,  and  now  you  are  going  to  appropriate 
the  best  parts  of  the  pig." 

Tom  raised  his  eyebrows,  and  stared  at  the  stranger  in. 
his  peculiar  manner,  then  very  coolly  placed  the  whole  of  the 
pig  on  his  plate.  "  I  have  heard,"  he  said,  "  of  dog  eating 
dog,  but  I  never  before  saw  pig  eating  pig." 

"  Sir !  do  you  mean  to  insult  me  1"  cried  the  stranger,  his 
face  crimsoning  with  anger. 

"  Only  to  tell  you,  sir,  that  you  are  no  gentleman.  Here, 
Tim,"  turning  to  the  wraiter,  "  go  to  the  stable  and  bring  in 
my  bear ;  we  will  place  him  at  the  table  to  teach  this  man 
how  to  behave  himself  in  the  presence  of  ladies." 

A  general  uproar  ensued ;  the  women  left  the  table,  while 
the  entrance  of  the  bear  threw  the  gentlemen  present  into 
convulsions  of  laughter.  It  was  too  much  for  the  human 
biped ;  he  was  forced  to  leave  the  room,  and  succumb  to  the 
bear. 

My  husband  concluded  his  purchase  of  the  farm,  and  invi 
ted  Wilson  to  go  with  us  into  the  country  and  try  if  change 
of  air  would  be  beneficial  to  him  ;  for  in  his  then  weak  state 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  return  to  England.  His  funds 
were  getting  very  low,  and  Tom  thankfully  accepted  the  offer. 
Leaving  Bruin  in  the  charge  of  Tim  (who  delighted  in  the 
oddities  of  the  strange  English  gentleman),  Tom  made  one 
of  our  party  to .  « 


54  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTEE   V. 

OUR    FIRST   SETTLEMENT,    AND    THE    BORROWING    SYSTEM. 
To  lend,  or  not  to  lend—  is  that  the  question? 


who  go  a-borrowing,  go  a-sorrowing,"  saith  the  old 
y*-  adage  ;  and  a  wiser  saw  never  came  out  of  the  mouth 
of  experience.  I  have  tested  the  truth  of  this  proverb  since 
my  settlement  in  Canada,  many,  many  times,  to  my  cost  ; 
and  what  emigrant  has  not  1  So  averse  have  I  ever  been  to 
this  practice,  that  I  would  at  all  times  rather  quietly  submit 
to  a  temporary  inconvenience  than  obtain  any  thing  I  wanted 
in  this  manner.  I  verily  believe  that  a  demon  of  mischief 
presides  over  borrowed  goods,  and  takes  a  wicked  pleasure  in 
playing  off  a  thousand  malicious  pranks  upon  you  the  moment 
he  enters  your  dwelling.  Plates  and  dishes,  that  had  been 
the  pride  and  ornament  of  their  own  cupboard  for  years,  no 
sooner  enter  upon  foreign  service  than  they  are  broken  ;  wine 
glasses  and  tumblers,  that  have  been  handled  by  a  hundred 
careless  wenches  in  safety,  scarcely  pass  into  the  hands  of 
your  servants  when  they  are  sure  to  tumble  upon  the  floor, 
and  the  accident  turns  out  a  compound  fracture.  If  you  bor 
row  a  garment  of  any  kind,  be  sure  that  you  will  tear  it  ;  a 
watch,  that  you  will  break  it  ;  a  jewel,  that  you  will  lose  it  ; 
a  book,  that  it  will  be  stolen  from  you.  There  is  no  end  to 
the  trouble  and  vexation  arising  out  of  this  evil  habit.  If  you 
borrow  a  horse,  and  he  has  the  reputation  of  being  the  best- 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  55 

behaved  animal  in  the  district,  you  no  sooner  become  respon 
sible  for  his  conduct  than  he  loses  his  character.  The  mo 
ment  that  you  attempt  to  drive  him,  he  shows  that  he  has 
a  will  of  his  own,  by  taking  the  reins  into  his  own  man 
agement,  and  running  away  in  a  contrary  direction  to  the 
road  that  you  wished  him  to  travel.  He  never  gives  over  his 
eccentric  capers  until  he  has  broken  his  own  knees,  and  the 
borrowed  carriage  and  harness.  So  anxious  are  you  about 
his  safety,  that  you  have  not  a  moment  to  bestow  upon  your 
own.  And  why? — the  beast  is  borrowed,  and  you  are  ex 
pected  to  return  him  in  as  good  condition  as  he  came  to  you. 
But  of  all  evils,  to  borrow  money  is  perhaps  the  worst.  If 
of  a  friend,  he  ceases  to  be  one  the  moment  you  feel  that 
you  are  bound  to  him  by  the  heavy  clog  of  obligation.  If  of 
a  usurer,  the  interest,  in  this  country,  soon  doubles  the  original 
sum,  and  you  owe  an  increasing  debt,  which  in  time  swallows 
up  all  you  possess. 

When  we  first  came  to  the  colony,  nothing  surprised  me 
more  than  the  extent  to  which  this  pernicious  custom  was 
carried,  both  by  the  native  Canadians,  the  European  settlers, 
and  the  lower  order  of  Americans.  Many  of  the  latter  had 
spied  out  the  goodness  of  the  land,  and  borrowed  various  por 
tions  of  it,  without  so  much  as  asking  leave  of  the  absentee 
owner.  Unfortunately,  our  new  home  was  surrounded  by 
these  odious  squatters,  whom  we  found  as  ignorant  as  savages, 
without  their  courtesy  and  kindness. 

The  place  we  first  occupied  was  purchased  of  Mr.  C , 

a  merchant,  who  took  it  in  payment  of  sundry  large  debts 
which  the  owner,  a  New  England  loyalist,  had  been  unable  to 

-settle.     Old  Joe  H ,  the  present  occupant,  had  promised 

to  quit  it  with  his  family,  at  the  commencement  of  sleighing ; 
and  as  the  bargain  was  concluded  in  the  month  of  September, 
,and  we  were  anxious  to  plough  for  fall  wheat,  it  was  necessary 


56  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

to  be  upon  the  spot.  No  house  was  to  be  found  in  the  im 
mediate  neighbourhood,  save  a  small  dilapidated  log  tene 
ment,  on  an  adjoining  farm  (which  was  scarcely  reclaimed 
from  the  bush)  that  had  been  some  months  without  an  owner. 
The  merchant  assured  us  that  this  could  be  made  very  com 
fortable  until  such  time  as  it  suited  H to  remove,  and 

the  owner  was  willing  to  let  us  have  it  for  the  moderate  sum 
of  four  dollars  a  month. 

Trusting  to  Mr.  C 's  word,  and  being  strangers  in  the 

land,  we  never  took  the  precaution  to  examine  this  delightful 
summer  residence  before  entering  upon  it,  but  thought  our 
selves  very  fortunate  in  obtaining  a  temporary  home  so  near 
our  own  property,  the  distance  not  exceeding  half  a  mile.  The 
agreement  was  drawn  up,  and  we  were  told  that  we  could 
take  possession  whenever  it  suited  us. 

The  few  weeks  that  I  had  sojourned  in  the  country  had  by 
no  means  prepossessed  me  in  its  favour.  The  home-sickness 
was  sore  upon  me,  and  all  my  solitary  hours  were  spent  in 
tears.  My  whole  soul  yielded  itself  up  to  a  strong  and  over 
powering  grief.  One  simple  word  dwelt  for  ever  in  my 
heart,  and  swelled  it  to  bursting — "  Home  !"  I  repeated  it 
waking  a  thousand  times  a  day,  and  my  last  prayer  before  I 
sank  to  sleep  was  still  "  Home !  Oh,  that  I  could  return,  if 
only  to  die  at  home  I"  And  nightly  I  did  return ;  my  feet 
again  trod  the  daisied  meadows  of  England ;  the  song  of  her 
birds  was  in  my  ears ;  I  wept  with  delight  to  find  myself 
once  more  wandering  beneath  the  fragrant  shade  of  her  green 
hedge-rows ;  and  I  awoke  to  weep  in  earnest  when  I  found  it 
but  a  dream.  But  this  is  all  digression,  and  has  nothing  to 
do  with  our  unseen  dwelling.  The  reader  must  bear  with  me 
in  my  fits  of  melancholy,  and  take  me  as  I  am. 

It  was  the  22d  September  that  we  left  the  steamboat 
to  take  possession  of  our  new  abode.  During  the 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  57 

three  weeks  we  had  sojourned  at ,  I  had  not  seen  a  drop 

of  rain,  and  I  began  to  think  that  the  fine  weather  would  last 
for  ever ;  but  this  eventful  day  arose  in  clouds.  Moodie  had 
hired  a  covered  carriage  to  convey  the  baby,  the  servant- 
maid,  and  myself  to  the  farm,  as  our  driver  prognosticated  a 
wet  day ;  while  he  followed  with  Tom  Wilson  and  the  teams 
that  conveyed  our  luggage. 

The  scenery  through  which  we  were  passing  was  so  new  to 
me,  so  unlike  any  thing  that  I  had  ever  beheld  before,  that  in 
spite  of  its  monotonous  character,  it  won  me  from  my  mel 
ancholy,  and  I  began  to  look  about  me  with  considerable  in 
terest.  Not  so  my  English  servant,  who  declared  that  the 
woods  were  frightful  to  look  upon ;  that  it  was  a  country 
only  fit  for  wild  beasts ;  that  she  hated  it  with  all  her  heart 
and  soul,  and  would  go  back  as  soon  as  she  was  able. 

About  a  mile  from  the  place  of  our  destination  the  rain  be 
gan  to  fall  in  torrents,  and  the  air,  which  had  been  balmy  as 
a  spring  morning,  turned  as  chilly  as  that  of  a  November 
day.  Hannah  shivered ;  the  baby  cried,  and  I  drew  my 
summer  shawl  as  closely  round  as  possible,  to  protect  her 
from  the  sudden  change  in  our  hitherto  delightful  tempera 
ture.  Just  then,  the  carriage  turned  into  a  narrow,  steep 
path,  overhung  with  lofty  woods,  and  after  labouring  up  it 
with  considerable  difficulty,  and  at  the  risk  of  breaking  our 
necks,  it  brought  us  at  length  to  a  rocky  upland  clearing, 
partially  covered  with  a  second  growth  of  timber,  and  sur 
rounded  on  all  sides  by  the  dark  forest. 

"  I  guess,"  quoth  our  Yankee  driver,  "  that  at  the  bottom 
of  this  'ere  swell,  you'll  find  yourself  to  hum  ;"  and  plunging 
into  a  short  path  cut  through  the  wood,  he  pointed  to  a  mis 
erable  hut,  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  descent,  and  cracking  his 
whip,  exclaimed,  "  'Tis  a  smart  location  that.  I  wish  you 
Britishers  may  enjoy  it." 

3* 


68  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE 

I  gazed  upon  the  place  in  perfect  dismay,  for  I  had  never 
seen  such  a  shed  called  a  house  before.  "  You  must  be  mis 
taken  ;  that  is  not  a  house,  but  a  cattle-shed,  or  pig-sty." 

The  man  turned  his  knowing,  keen  eye  upon  me,  and 
smiled,  half-humorously,  half-maliciously,  as  he  said, 

"  You  were  raised  in  the  old  country,  I  guess  ;  you  have 
much  to  learn,  and  more,  perhaps,  than  you'll  like  to  know, 
before  the  winter  is  over." 

I  was  perfectly  bewildered — I  could  only  stare  at  the 
place,  with  my  eyes  swimming  in  tears ;  but  as  the  horses 
plunged  down  into  the  broken  hollow,  my  attention  was 
drawn  from  my  new  residence  to  the  perils  which  endangered 
life  and  limb  at  every  step.  The  driver,  however,  was  well 
used  to  such  roads,  and,  steering  us  dexterously  between  the 
black  stumps,  at  length  drove  up,  not  to  the  door,  for  there 
'was  none  to  the  house,  but  to  the  open  space  from  wrhich  that 
absent  but  very  necessary  appendage  had  been  removed. 
Three  young  steers  and  two  heifers,  which  the  driver  pro 
ceeded  to  drive  out,  were  quietly  reposing  upon  the  floor.  A 
few  strokes  of  his  whip,  and  a  loud  burst  of  gratuitous  curses, 
soon  effected  an  ejectment ;  and  I  dismounted,  and  took  pos 
session  of  this  untenable  tenement.  Moodie  was  not  yet  in 
sight  with  the  teams.  I  begged  the  man  to  stay  until  he 
arrived,  as  I  felt  terrified  at  being  left  alone  in  this  wild, 
strange-looking  place.  He  laughed,  as  well  he  might,  at  our 
fears,  and  said  that  he  had  a  long  way  to  go,  and  must  be 
off;  then,  cracking  his  whip,  and  nodding  to  the  girl,  who  was 
crying  aloud,  he  went  his  way,  and  Hannah  and  myself  were 
left  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  dirty  floor. 

The  prospect  was  indeed  dreary.  Without,  pouring  rain ; 
within,  a  fireless  hearth ;  a  room  with  but  one  window,  and 
that  containing  only  one  whole  pane  of  glass ;  not  an  article 
of  furniture  to  be  seen,  save  an  old  painted  pine-wood  cradle, 


FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  59 

which  had  been  left  there  by  some  freak  of  fortune.  This, 
turned  upon  its  side,  served  us  for  a  seat,  and  there  we  impa 
tiently  awaited  the  arrival  of  Moodie,  Wilson,  and  a  man 
whom  the  former  had  hired  that  morning  to  assist  on  the 
farm.  Where  they  were  all  to  be  stowed  might  have  puz- 
eled  a  more  sagacious  brain  than  mine.  It  is  true  there  was 
a  loft,  but  I  could  see  no  way  of  reaching  it,  for  ladder  there 
was  none,  so  we  amused  ourselves,  while  waiting  for  the  com 
ing  of  the  party,  by  abusing  the  place,  the  country,  and  our 
own  dear  selves,  for  our  folly  in  coming  to  it. 

Now,  when  not  only  reconciled  to  Canada,  but  loving  it, 
and  feeling  a  deep  interest  in  its  present  welfare,  and  the  fair 
prospect  of  its  future  greatness,  I  often  look  back  and  laugh 
at  the  feelings  with  which  I  then  regarded  this  noble  country. 

When  things  come  to  the  worst,  they  generally  mend. 
The  males  of  our  party  no  sooner  arrived  than  they  set  about 
making  things  more  comfortable.  James,  our  servant,  pulled 
up  some  of  the  decayed  stumps,  with  which  the  small  clearing 
that  surrounded  the  shanty  was  thickly  covered,  and  made  a 
fire,  and  Hannah  roused  herself  from  the  stupor  of  despair, 
and  seized  the  corn-broom  from  the  top  of  the  loaded  wagon, 
and  began  to  sweep  the  house,  raising  such  an  intolerable 
cloud  of  dust  that  I  was  glad  to  throw  my  cloak  over  my  head, 
and  run  out  of  doors,  to  avoid  suffocation.  Then  commenced 
the  awful  bustle  of  unloading  the  two  heavily-loaded  wagons. 
The  small  space  within  the  house  was  soon  entirely  blocked 
up  with  trunks  and  packages  of  all  descriptions.  There  was 
scarcely  room  to  move,  without  stumbling  over  some  article 
of  household  stuff. 

The  rain  poured  in  at  the  open  door,  beat  in  at  the  shat 
tered  window,  and  dropped  upon  our  heads  from  the  holes  in 
the  roof.  The  wind  blew  keenly  through  a  thousand  aper 
tures  in  the  log  walls ;  and  nothing  could  exceed  the  uncom- 


60  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

fortableness  of  our  situation.  For  a  long  time  the  box  which 
contained  a  hammer  and  nails  was  not  to  be  found.  At 
length  Hannah  discovered  it,  tied  up  with  some  bedding  which 
she  was  opening  out  in  order  to  dry.  I  fortunately  spied  the 
door  lying  among  some  old  boards  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
and  Moodie  immediately  commenced  fitting  it  to  its  place. 
This,  once  accomplished,  was  a  great  addition  to  our  comfort. 
We  then  nailed  a  piece  of  white  cloth  entirely  over  the  broken 
window,  which,  without  diminishing  the  light,  kept  out  the 
rain.  James  constructed  a  ladder  out  of  the  old  bits  of 
boards,  and  Tom  Wilson  assisted  him  in  stowing  the  luggage 
away  in  the  loft. 

But  what  has  this  picture  of  misery  and  discomfort  to  do 
with  borrowing  1  Patience,  my  dear,  good  friends  j  I  will 
tell  you  all  about  it  by  and  by. 

While  we  were  all  busily  employed — even  the  poor  baby, 
who  was  lying  upon  a  pillow  in  the  old  cradle,  trying  the 
strength  of  her  lungs,  and  not  a  little  irritated  that  no  one 
was  at  leisure  to  regard  her  laudable  endeavours  to  make  her 
self  heard — the  door  was  suddenly  pushed  open,  and  the 
apparition  of  a  woman  squeezed  itself  into  the  crowded  room. 
I  left  off  arranging  the  furniture  of  a  bed,  that  had  been  just 
put  up  hi  a  corner,  to  meet  my  unexpected,  and  at  that  mo 
ment,  not  very  welcome  guest.  Her  whole  appearance  was 
so  extraordinary  that  I  felt  quite  at  a  loss  how  to  address 
her. 

Imagine  a  girl  of  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age,  with 
sharp,  knowing-looking  features,  a  forward,  impudent  car 
riage,  and  a  pert,  flippant  voice,  standing  upon  one  of  the 
trunks,  and  surveying  all  our  proceedings  in  the  most  imper 
tinent  manner.  The  creature  was  dressed  in  a  ragged,  dirty 
purple  stuff  gown,  cut  very  low  in  the  neck,  with  an  old  red 
cotton  handkerchief  tied  over  her  head  ;  her  uncombed, 


OUB  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  61 

tangled  locks  falling  over  her  thin,  inquisitive  face,  in  a 
state  of  perfect  nature.  Her  legs  and  feet  were  bare,  and, 
in  her  coarse,  dirty  red  hands,  she  swung  to  and  fro  an  empty 
glass  decanter. 

"  What  can  she  want1?"  I  asked  myself.  "  What  a  strange 
creature  1" 

And  there  she  stood,  staring  at  me  in  the  most  unceremo 
nious  manner,  her  keen  black  eyes  glancing  obliquely  to  every 
corner  of  the  room,  which  she  examined  with  critical  exact 
ness. 

Before  I  could  speak  to  her,  she  commenced  the  conversa 
tion  by  drawling  through  her  nose, 

"  Well,  I  guess  you  are  fixing  here." 

I  thought  she  had  come  to  offer  her  services  ;  and  I  told 
her  that  I  did  not  want  a  girl,  for  I  had  brought  one  out  with 
me. 

"  How  !"  responded  the  creature,  "  I  hope  you  don't  take 
me  for  a  help.  I'd  have  you  to  know  that  I'm  as  good  a  lady 
as  yourself.  No  ;  I  just  stepped  over  to  see  what  was  going 
on.  I  seed  the  teams  pass  our'n  about  noon,  and  I  says  to 
father,  '  Them  strangers  are  cum  ;  I'll  go  and  look  arter 
them.'  'Yes,'  says  he,  'do  —  an'd  take  the  decanter  along. 
Maybe  they'll  want  one  to  put  their  whiskey  in.'  '  I'm  goin* 
to,'  says  I;  so  I  cum  across  with  it,  an'  here  it  is.  But, 
mind  —  don't  break  it  —  'tis  the  only  one  we  have  to  hum  j  and 
father  says  'tis  so  mean  to  drink  out  of  green  glass." 

My  surprise  increased  every  minute.  It  seemed  such  an 
act  of  disinterested  generosity  thus  to  anticipate  wants  we  had 
never  thought  of.  I  was  regularly  taken  in. 

"  My  good  girl,"  I  began,  "  this  is  really  very  kind  — 


"  Now,  don't  go  to  call  me  'gal'  —  and  pass  off  your  En 
glish  airs  on  us.    We  are  genuine  Yankees,  and  think  our- 


62  ZbUGEING  IT  IN  THE 

selves  as  good — yes,  a  great  deal  better  than  you.  I  am  a 
young  lady." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  I,  striving  to  repress  my  astonishment. 
"  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  country,  and  my  acquaintance  with 
Canadian  ladies  and  gentlemen  is  very  small.  I  did  not  mean 
to  offend  you  by  using. the  term  girl;  I  -was  going  to  assure 
you  that  we  had  no  need  of  the  decanter.  We  have  bottles 
of  our  own — and  we  don't  drink  whiskey." 

"  How !  Not  drink  whiskey  ]  Why,  you  don't  say  ! 
How  ignorant  you  must  be  !  Maybe  they  have  no  whiskey 
in  the  old  country  f 

"  Yes,  we  have ;  but  it  is  not  like  the  Canadian  whiskey. 
But,  pray  take  the  decanter  home  again — I  am  afraid  that  it 
will  get  broken  in  this  confusion." 

"  No,  no  ;  father  told  me  to  leave  it — and  there  it  is ;"  and 
she  planted  it  resolutely  down  on  the  trunk.  "  You  will  find 
a  use  for  it  till  you  have  unpacked  your  own." 

Seeing  that  she  was  determined  to  leave  the  bottle,  I  said 
no  more  about  it,  but  asked  her  to  tell  me  where  the  well 
was  to  be  found. 

"  The  well !"  she  repeated  after  me,  with  a  sneer.  "  Who 
thinks  of  digging  wells  when  they  can  get  plenty  of  water 
from  the  creek  ?  There  is  a  fine  water-privilege  not  a  stone's- 
throw  from  the  door,"  and,  jumping  off  the  box,  she  disap 
peared  as  abruptly  as  she  had  entered.  We  all  looked  at 
each  other ;  Tom  WTilson  was  highly  amused,  and  laughed- 
until  he  held  his  sides. 

"  What  tempted  her  to  bring  this  empty  bottle  here  1" 
said  Moodie.  "  It  is  all  an  excuse  ;  the  visit,  Tom,  was  meant 
for  you." 

"  You'll  know  more  about  it  in  a  few  days,"  said  James 
looking  up  from  his  work.  "  That  bottle  is  not  brought  here, 
for  naught," 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  63 

I  could  not  unravel  the  mystery,  and  thought  no  more  about 
it,  until  it  was  again  brought  to  my  recollection  by  the  dam 
sel  herself. 

Our  united  efforts  had  effected  a  complete  transformation 
in  our  uncouth  dwelling.  Sleeping-berths  had  been  partitioned 
off  for  the  men ;  shelves  had  been  put  up  for  the  accommo 
dation  of  books  and  crockery,  a  carpet  covered  the  floor,  and 

the  chairs  and  tables  we  had  brought  from gave  an  air 

of  comfort  to  the  place,  which,  on  the  first  view  of  it,  I  deemed 
impossible.  My  husband,  Mr.  Wilson,  and  James,  had 
walked  over  to  inspect  the  farm,  and  I  was  sitting  at  the 
table  at  work,  the  baby  creeping  upon  the  floor,  and  Han 
nah  preparing  dinner.  The  sun  shone  warm  and  bright,  and 
the  open  door  admitted  a  current  of  fresh  air,  which  tempered 
the  heat  of  the  fire. 

"  Well,  1  guess  you  look  smart,"  said  the  Yankee  damsel, 
presenting  herself  once  more  before  me.  "  You  old  country 
folks  are  so  stiff,  you  must  have  every  thing  nice,  or  you  fret. 
But,  then,  you  can  easily  do  it ;  you  have  stacks  of  money ; 
and  you  can  fix  every  thing  right  off  with  money." 

"  Pray  take  a  seat,"  and  I  offered  her  a  chair,  "  and  be  kind 
enough  to  tell  me  your  name.  I  suppose  you  must  live  in 
the  neighbourhood,  although  I  cannot  perceive  any  dwelling 
near  us." 

"  My  name !  So  you  want  to  know  my  name.  I  arn't 

ashamed  of  my  name;  'tis  Emily  S .  I  am  eldest 

daughter  to  the  gentleman  who  owns  this  house." 

"  What  must  the  father  be,"  thought  I,  "  if  he  resembles 
the  young  lady,  his  daughter  ?"• 

Imagine  a  young  lady,  dressed  in  ragged  petticoats,  through 
whose  yawning  rents  peeped  forth,  from  time  to  time,  her 
bare  red  knees,  with  uncombed  elf-locks,  and  a  face  and  hands 
that  looked  as  if  they  had  been  unwashed  for  a  month — who 


64  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

did  not  know  A  from  B,  and  despised  those  who  did.  While 
these  reflections,  combined  with  a  thousand  ludicrous  images, 
were  flitting  through  my  mind,  my  strange  visitor  suddenly 
exclaimed, 

"  Have  you  done  with  that  'ere  decanter  I  brought  across 
yesterday  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  have  no  occasion  for  it."  I  rose,  took  it  from 
the  shelf,  and  placed  it  in  her  hand. 

"  I  guess  you  won't  return  it  empty ;  that  would  be  mean, 
father  says.  He  wants  it  filled  with  whiskey." 

The  mystery  was  solved,  the  riddle  made  clear.  I  could 
contain  my  gravity  no  longer,  but  burst  into  a  hearty  fit  of 
laughter,  in  which  I  was  joined  by  Hannah.  Our  young  lady 
was  mortally  offended ;  she  tossed  the  decanter  from  hand  to 
hand,  and  glared  at  us  with  her  tiger-like  eyes. 

"  You  think  yourselves  smart !  Why  do  you  laugh  in 
that  way  ?" 

"  Excuse  me — but  you  have  such  an  odd  way  of  borrowing 
that  I  cannot  help  it.  This  bottle,  it  seems,  was  brought  over 
for  your  own  convenience,  not  for  mine.  I  am  sorry  to  disap 
point  you,  but  I  have  no  whiskey." 

"  I  guess  spirits  will  do  as  well ;  I  know  there  is  some  in 
that  keg,  for  I  smells  it." 

"  It  contains  rum  for  the  workmen." 

"  Better  still.  I  calculate  when  you've  been  here  a  few 
months,  you'll  be  too  knowing  to  give  rum  to  your  helps. 
But  old  country  folks  are  all  fools,  and  that's  the  reason  they 
get  so  easily  sucked  in,  and  be  so  soon  wound  up.  Cum,  fill 
the  bottle,  and  don't  be  stingy.  In  this  country  we  all  live 
by  borrowing.  If  you  want  any  thing,  why  just  send  and  bor 
row  from  us." 

Thinking  that  this  might  be  the  custom  of  the  country,  I 
hastened  to  fill  the  decanter,  hoping  that  I  might  get  a  little 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  65 

new  milk  for  the  poor  weaning  child  in  return ;  but  when  I 
asked  my  liberal  visitor  if  she  kept  cows,  and  would  lend  me 
a  little  new  milk  for  the  baby,  she  burst  out  into  high  disdain. 
"  Milk !  Lend  milk  ?  I  guess  milk  in  the  fall  is  worth  a 
York  shilling  a  quart.  I  cannot  sell  you  a  drop  under." 

This  was  a  wicked  piece  of  extortion,  as  the  same  article  in 
the  towns,  where,  of  course,  it  was  in  greater  request,  only 
brought  threepence  the  quart. 

"  If  you'll  pay  me  for  it,  I'll  bring  you  some  to-morrow. 
But  mind — cash  down." 

"  And  when  do  you  mean  to  return  the  rum  T  I  said,  with 
some  asperity. 

"  When  father  goes  to  the  creek."     This  was  the  name 

given  by  my  neighbours  to  the  village  of  P ,  distant  about 

four  miles. 

Day  after  day  I  was  tormented  by  this  importunate  crea 
ture  ;  she  borrowed  of  me  tea,  sugar,  candles,  starch,  blueing, 
irons,  pots,  bowls, — in  short,  every  article  in  common  domes 
tic  use, — while  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  we  could  get 
them  returned.  Articles  of  food,  such  as  tea  and  sugar,  or 
of  convenience,  like  candles,  starch,  and  soap,  she  never 
dreamed  of  being  required  at  her  hands.  This  method  of 
living  upon  their  neighbours  is  a  most  convenient  one  to  un 
principled  people,  as  it  does  not  involve  the  penalty  of  stealing ; 
and  they  can  keep  the  goods  without  the  unpleasant  necessity 
of  returning  them,  or  feel  the  moral  obligation  of  being  grate 
ful  for  their  use.  Living  eight  miles  from ,  I  found  these 

constant  encroachments  a  heavy  burden  on  our  poor  purse ; 
and  being  ignorant  of  the  country,  and  residing  in  such  a 
lonely,  out-of-the-way  place,  surrounded  by  these  savages,  I 
was  really  afraid  of  denying  their  requests. 

The  very  day  our  new  plough  came  home,  the  father  of 
this  bright  damsel,  who  went  by  the  familiar  and  unenviable 


66  SOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

title  of  Old  Satan,  came  over  to  borrow  it  (though  we  after 
wards  found  out  that  he  had  a  good  one  of  his  own).  The 
land  had  never  been  broken  up,  and  was  full  of  rocks  and 
stumps,  and  he  was  anxious  to  save  his  own  from  injury ;  the 
consequence  was  that  the  borrowed  implement  came  home 
unfit  for  use,  just  at  the  very  time  that  we  wanted  to  plough 
for  fall  wheat.  The  same  happened  to  a  spade  and  trowel, 
bought  in  order  to  plaster  the  house.  Satan  asked  the  loan 
of  them  for  one  hour  for  the  same  purpose,  and  we  never  saw 
them  again. 

The  daughter  came  one  morning,  as  usual,  on  one  of  these 
swindling  expeditions,  and  demanded  of  me  the  loan  of  some 
fine  slack.  Not  knowing  what  she  meant  by  fine  slack,  and 
weary  of  her  importunities,  I  said  I  had  none.  She  went 
away  in  a  rage.  Shortly  after  she  came  again  for  some  pep 
per.  I  was  at  work,  and  my  work-box  was  open  upon  the 
table,  well  stored  with  threads  and  spools  of  all  descriptions. 
Miss  Satan  cast  her  hawk's  eye  into  it,  and  burst  out  in  her 
usual  rude  manner, 

"  I  guess  you  told  me  a  tarnation  big  lie  the  other  day." 

Unaccustomed  to  such  language,  I  rose  from  my  seat,  and 
pointing  to  the  door,  told  her  to  walk  out,  as  I  did  not  choose 
to  be  insulted  in  my  own  house. 

"  Your  house  !  I'm  sure  it's  father's,"  returned  the  incor 
rigible  wretch.  "  You  told  me  that  you  had  no  fine  slack, 
and  you  have  stacks  of  it." 

"  What  is  fine  slack  ?'  said  I,  very  pettishly. 

"  The  stuff  that's  wound  upon  these  'ere  pieces  of  wood," 
pouncing  as  she  spoke  upon  one  of  my  most  serviceable 
spools. 

"  I  cannot  give  you  that ;  I  want  it  myself." 

"  I  didn't  ask  you  to  give  it.  I  only  wants  to  borrow  it 
till  father  goes  to  the  creek."  . 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  67 

"  I  wish  he  would  make  haste,  then,  as  I  want  a  number 
of  things  which  you  have  borrowed  of  me,  and  which  I  cannot 
longer  do  without." 

She  gave  me  a  knowing  look,  and  carried  off  my  spool  in 
triumph. 

I  happened  to  mention  the  manner  in  which  I  was  con 
stantly  annoyed  by  these  people,  to  a  worthy  English  farmer 
who  resided  near  us ;  and  he  fell  a-laughing,  and  told  me  that 
I  did  not  know  the  Canadian  Yankees  as  well  as  he  did,  or  I 
should  not  be  troubled  with  them  long. 

"  The  best  way,"  says  he,  "  to  get  rid  of  them,  is  to  ask 
them  sharply  what  they  want ;  and  if  they  give  you  no  satis 
factory  answer,  order  them  to  leave  the  house ;  but  I  believe 
I  can  put  you  in  a  better  way  still.  Buy  some  small  article 
of  them,  and  pay  them  a  trifle  over  the  price,  and  tell  them 
to  bring  the  change.  I  will  lay  my  life  upon  it  that  it  will  be 
long  before  they  trouble  you  again." 

I  was  impatient  to  test  the  efficacy  of  his  scheme.  That 
very  afternoon  Miss  Satan  brought  me  a  plate  of  butter  for 
sale.  The  price  was  three  and  uinepence  ;  twice  the  sum,  by 
the  by,  that  it  was  worth. 

"  I  have  no  change,"  giving  her  a  dollar ;  "  but  you  can 
bring  it  me  to-morrow." 

Oh,  blessed  experiment !  for  the  value  of  one  quarter-dol 
lar  I  got  rid  of  this  dishonest  girl  for  ever ;  rather  than  pay 
me,  she  never  entered  the  house  again.  About  a  month  after 
this,  I  was  busy  making  an  apple-pie  in  the  kitchen.  A  cadav 
erous-looking  woman,  very  long-faced  and  witch-like,  popped 
her  ill-looking  visage  into  the  door,  and  drawled  through  her 
nose, 

"  Do  you  want  to  buy  a  rooster  ?" 

Now,  the  sucking-pigs  with  which  we  had  been  regaled 
tesrery  day  for  three  weeks  at  the  tavern,  were  called  roasters  ; 


68  BOVGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

and  not  understanding  the  familiar  phrases  of  the  country,  I 
thought  she  had  a  sucking-pig  to  sell. 

"  Js  it  a  good  one  1" 

"  I  guess  'tis." 

"  What  do  you  ask  for  it  ?" 

"  Two  Yorkers." 

"  That  is  very  cheap,  if  it  is  any  weight.  I  don't  like  them 
under  ten  or  twelve  pounds." 

"  Ten  or  twelve  pounds !  Why,  woman,  what  do  you 
mean1?  Would  you  expect  a  rooster  to  be  bigger  nor  a 
turkey  ?" 

We  stared  at  each  other.  There  was  evidently  some  mis 
conception  on  my  part. 

"  Bring  the  roaster  up ;  and  if  I  like  it,  I  will  buy  it, 
though  I  must  confess  that  I  am  not  very  fond  of  roast  pig." 

"  Do  you  call  this  a  pig  1"  said  my  she-merchant,  drawing 
a  fine  game-cock  from  under  her  cloak. 

I  laughed  heartily  at  my  mistake,  as  I  paid  her  down  the 
money  for  the  bonny  bird.  This  little  matter  settled,  I 
thought  she  would  take  her  departure ;  but  that  rooster 
proved  the  dearest  fowl  to  me  that  ever  was  bought. 

"  Do  you  keep  backy  and  snuff  here  ?"  says  she,  sideling 
close  up  to  me. 

"  We  make  no  use  of  those  articles." 

"  How  !     Not  use  backy  and  snuff1?     That's  oncommon." 

She  paused,  then  added  in  a  mysterious,  confidential  tone, 

"  I  want  to  ask  you  how  your  tea-caddy  stands  ?" 

"  It  stands  in  the  cupboard,"  said  I,  wondering  what  all 
this  might  mean. 

"  I  know  that ;  but  have  you  any  tea  to  spare  1" 

I  now  began  to  suspect  what  sort  of  a  customer  the 
stranger  was. 

"  Oh,  you  want  to  borrow  some  ?    I  have  none  to  spare." 


'     I 

FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  69 

"  You  don't  say  so.  Well,  now,  that's  stingy.  I  never 
asked  any  thing  of  you  before.  I  am  poor,  and  you  are  rich ; 
besides,  I'm  troubled  so  with  the  headache,  and  nothing  does 
me  any  good  but  a  cup  of  strong  tea." 

"  The  money  I  have  just  given  you  will  buy  a  quarter  of 
a  pound  of  the  best." 

"  I  guess  that  isn't  mine.  The  fowl  belonged  to  my  neigh 
bour.  She's  sick ;  and  I  promised  to  sell  it  for  her  to  buy 
some  physic.  Money  !"  she  added,  in  a  coaxing  tone,  "  Where 
should  I  get  money  ?  Lord  bless  you  !  people  in  this  country 
have  no  money ;  and  those  who  come  out  with  piles  of  it, 

soon  lose  it.  But  Emily  S told  me  that  you  are  nation 

rich,  and  draw  your  money  from  the  old  country.  So  I 
guess  you  can  well  afford  to  lend  a  neighbour  a  spoonful  of 
tea." 

"  Neighbour !  Where  do  you  live,  and  what  is  your 
name  1" 

",My  name  is  Betty  Eye — old  Betty  Eye ;  I  live  in  the 
log  shanty  over  the  creek,  at  the  back  of  your'n.  The  farm 
belongs  to  my  eldest  son.  I'm  a  widow  with  twelve  sons  j 
and  'tis hard  to  scratch  along." 

"  Do  you  swear  T' 

"  Swear  !  W^hat  harm  1  It  eases  one's  mind  when  one's 
vexed.  Every  body  swears  in  this  country.  My  boys  all 
swear  like  Sam  Hill ;  and  I  used  to  swear  mighty  big  oaths 
till  about  a  month  ago,  when  the  Methody  parson  told  me 
that  if  I  did  not  leave  it  off  I  should  go  to  a  tarnation  bad 
place  ;  so  I  dropped  some  of  the  worst  of  them." 

"  You  would  do  wisely  to  drop  the  rest ;  women  never 
swear  in  my  country." 

"  Well,  you  don't  say !  I  always  heer'd  they  were  very 
ignorant.  Will  you  lend  me  the  tea  f 

The  woman  was  such  an  original  that  I  gave  her  what  she 


70  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

wanted.  As  she  was  going  off,  she  took  up  one  of  the  apples 
I  was  peeling. 

"  I  guess  you  have  a  fine  orchard  *?" 

"  They  say  the  best  in  the  district." 

"  We  have  no  orchard  to  hum,  and  I  guess  you'll  want 
sarce." 

"  Sarce !     What  is  sarce  ?" 

"  Not  know  what  sarce  is  ?  You  are  clever !  Sarce  is 
apples  cut  up  and  dried,  to  make  into  pies  in  the  winter.  Now 
do  you  comprehend  ?" 

I  nodded. 

"  Well,  I  was  going  to  say  that  I  have  no  apples,  and  that 
you  have  a  tarnation  big  few  of  them ;  and  if  you'll  give  me 
twenty  bushels  of  your  best  apples,  and  find  me  with  half  a 
pound  of  coarse  thread  to  string  them  upon,  I  will  make  you 
a  barrel  of  sarce  on  shares — that  is,  give  you  one,  and  keep 
one  for  myself." 

I  had  plenty  of  apples,  and  I  gladly  accepted  her  offer,  and 
Mrs.  Betty  Fye  departed,  elated  with  the  success  of  her  ex 
pedition.  I  found  to  my  cost,  that,  once  admitted  into  the 
house,  there  was  no  keeping  her  away.  She  borrowed  every 
thing  that  she  could  think  of,  without  once  dreaming  of  resti 
tution.  I  tried  all  ways  of  affronting  her,  but  without  success. 
Winter  came,  and  she  was  still  at  her  old  pranks.  Whenever 
I  saw  her  coming  down  the  lane,  I  used  involuntarily  to  ex 
claim,  "  Betty  Fye  !  Betty  Fye  !  Fye  upon  Betty  Fye  !  The 
Lord  deliver  me  from  Betty  Fye  !"  The  last  time  I  was 
honoured  with  a  visit  from  this  worthy,  she  meant  to  favour 
me  with  a  very  large  order  upon  my  goods  and  chattels. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Fye,  "what  do  you  want  to-day  ?" 

"  So  many  things  that  I  scarce  know  where  to  begin.  Ahy 
what  a  thing  'tis  to  be  poor  !  First,  I  want  you  to  lend  me 
ten  pounds  of  flour  to  make  some  Johnnie-cakes." 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  71 

"  I  thought  they  were  made  of  Indian  meal  1" 

"  Yes,  yes,  when  you've  got  the  meal.  I'm  out  of  it,  and 
this  is  a  new  fixing  of  my  own  invention.  Lend  me  the  flour, 
woman,  and  I'll  bring  you  one  of  the  cakes  to  taste." 

This  was  said  very  coaxingly. 

"  Oh,  pray  don't  trouble  yourself.  What  next  ?"  I  was 
anxious  to  see  how  far  her  impudence  would  go,  and  deter 
mined  to  affront  her  if  possible. 

"  I  want  you  to  lend  me  a  gown,  and  a  pair  of  stockings. 
I  have  to  go  to  Oswego  to  see  my  husband's  sister,  and  I'd 
like  to  look  decent." 

"  Mrs.  Fye,  I  never  lend  my  clothes  to  any  one.  If  I  lend 
them  to  you,  I  should  never  wear  them  again." 

"  So  much  the  better  for  me,"  (with  a  knowing  grin).  "  I 
guess  if  you  won't  lend  me  the  gown,  you  will  let  me  have 
some  black  slack  to  quilt  a  stuff  petticoat,  a  quarter  of  a 
pound  of  tea  and  some  sugar ;  and  I  will  bring  them  back  as 
soon  as  I  can." 

"  I  wonder  when  that  will  be.  You  owe  me  so  many 
things  that  it  will  cost  you  more  than  you  imagine  to  repay 
me." 

"  Since  you're  not  going  to  mention  what's  past,  I  can't 
owe  you  much.  But  I  will  let  you  off  the  tea  and  the  sugar, 
if  you  will  lend  me  a  five-dollar  bill."  This  was  too  much 
for  my  patience  longer  to  endure,  and  I  answered  sharply, 

"  Mrs.  Fye,  it  surprises  me  that  such  proud  people  as  you 
Americans  should  condescend  to  the  meanness  of  borrowing 
from  those  whom  you  affect  to  despise.  Besides,  as  you  never 
repay  us  for  what  you  pretend  to  borrow,  I  look  upon  it  as  a 
system  of  robbery.  If  strangers  unfortunately  settle  among 
you,  their  good-nature  is  taxed  to  supply  your  domestic  wants, 
at  a  ruinous  expense,  besides  the  mortification  of  finding  that 
they  have  been  deceived  and  tricked  out  of  their  property.  If 


72  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BVStt. 

you  would  come  honestly  to  me  and  say,  '  I  want  these  things, 
I  am  too  poor  to  buy  them  myself,  and  would  be  obliged  to 
you  to  give  them  to  me,'  I  should  then  acknowledge  you  as  a 
common  beggar,  and  treat  you  accordingly ;  give  or  not  give, 
as  it  suited  my  convenience.  But  in  the  way  in  which  you 
obtain  these  articles  from  me,  you  are  spared  even  a  debt  of 
gratitude ;  for  you  well  know  that  the  many  things  which  you 
have  borrowed  from  me  will  be  a  debt  owing  to  the  day  of 
judgment." 

"  S'pose  they  are,"  quoth  Betty,  not  in  the  least  abashed 
at  my  lecture  on  honesty,  "  you  know  what  the  Scripture 
saith,  '  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.' " 

"  Ay,  there  is  an  answer  to  that  in  the  same  book,  which 
doubtless  you  may  have  heard,"  said  I,  disgusted  with  her 
hypocrisy,  "  '  The  wicked  borroweth,  and  payeth  not  again.' " 

"  Never  shall  I  forget  the  furious  passion  into  which  this 
too  apt  quotation  threw  my  unprincipled  applicant.  She 
lifted  up  her  voice  and  cursed  me,  using  some  of  the  big 
oaths  temporarily  discarded  for  conscience  sake.  And  so  she 
left  me,  and  I  never  looked  upon  her  face  again. 

When  I  removed  to  our  own  house,  the  history  of  which, 
and  its  former  owner,  I  will  give  by  and  by,  we  had  a  bony, 
red-headed,  ruffianly  American  squatter,  who  had  "  left  his 
country  for  his  country's  good,"  for  an  opposite  neighbour. 
I  had  scarcely  time  to  put  my  house  in  order  before  his 
family  commenced  borrowing,  or  stealing  from  me.  It  is 
even  worse  than  stealing,  the  things  procured  from  you  being 
obtained  on  false  pretences — adding  lying  to  theft.  Not 
having  either  an  oven  or  a  cooking-stove,  which  at  that  pe 
riod  were  not  so  cheap  or  so  common  as  they  are  now,  I 
had  provided  myself  with  a  large  bake-kettle  as  a  substitute. 
In  this  kettle  we  always  cooked  hot  cakes  for  breakfast, 
preferring  that  to  the  trouble  of  thawing  the  frozen  bread. 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  73 

This  man's  wife  was  in  the  habit  of  sending  over  for  my  ket 
tle  whenever  she  wanted  to  bake,  which,  as  she  had  a  large 
family,  happened  nearly  every  day,  and  I  found  her  importu 
nity  a  great  nuisance. 

I  told  the  impudent  lad  so,  who  was  generally  sent  for  it ; 
and  asked  him  what  they  did  to  bake  their  bread  before  I 
came. 

"  I  guess  we  had  to  eat  cakes  in  the  pan ;  but  now  we  can 
borrow  this  kettle  of  your'n,  mother  can  fix  bread." 

I  told  him  that  he  could  have  the  kettle  this  time  ;  but  I 
must  decline  letting  his  mother  have  it  in  future,  for  I  wanted 
it  for  the  same  purpose. 

The  next  day  passed  over.  The  night  was  intensely  cold, 
and  I  did  not  rise  so  early  as  usual  in  the  morning.  My  ser 
vant  was  away  at  a  quilting  bee,  and  we  were  still  in  bed, 
when  I  heard  the  latch  of  the  kitchen-door  lifted  up,  and  a 
step  crossed  the  floor.  I  jumped  out  of  bed,  and  began  to 
dress  as  fast  as  I  could,  when  Philander  called  out,  in  his 
well-known  nasal  twang, 

"  Missus !  Fin  come  for  the  kettle." 

I  (through  the  partition}  :  "  You  can't  have  it  this  morning. 
We  cannot  get  our  breakfast  without  it." 

Philander  :  "  Nor  more  can  the  old  woman  to  hum,"  and, 
snatching  up  the  kettle,  which  had  been  left  to  warm  on  the 
hearth,  he  rushed  out  of  the  house,  singing,  at  the  top  of  his 
voice, 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Yankee  Boys !" 

When  James  came  home  for  his  breakfast,  I  sent  him 
across  to  demand  the  kettle,  and  the  dame  very  coolly  told 
him  that  when  she  had  done  with  it  I  might  have  it,  but  she 
defied  him  to  take  it  out  of  her  house  with  her  bread  in  it. 

One  word  more  about  this  lad,  Philander,  before  we  part 
4 


74  ROUGHING  IT  IN  TH$  BUSH. 

•with  him.  Without  the  least  intimation  that  his  company 
would  be  agreeable,  or  even  tolerated,  he  favoured  us  with  it 
at  all  hours  of  the  day,  opening  the  door  and  walking  in  and 
out  whenever  he  felt  inclined.  I  had  given  him  many  broad 
hints  that  his  presence  was  not  required,  but  he  paid  not  the 
slightest  attention  to  what  I  said.  One  morning  he  marched 
in  with  his  hat  on,  and  threw  himself  down  in  the  rocking- 
chair,  just  as  I  was  going  to  dress  my  baby. 

"  Philander,  I  want  to  attend  to  the  child ;  I  cannot  do  it 
with  you  here.  Will  you  oblige  me  by  going  into  the 
kitchen?" 

No  answer.  He  seldom  spoke  during  these  visits,  but 
wandered  about  the  room,  turning  over  our  books  and  papers, 
looking  at  and  handling  every  thing.  Nay,  I  have  even  known 
him  to  take  a  lid  off  from  the  pot  on  the  fire,  to  examine  its 
contents. 

I  repeated  my  request. 

Philander :  "  Well,  I  guess  I  sha'n't  hurt  the  young  'un. 
You  can  dress  her." 

I :  "  But  not  with  you  here." 

Philander :  "  Why  not  ?  We  never  do  any  thing  that  we 
are  ashamed  of." 

I :  "So  it  seems.  But  I  want  to  sweep  the  room — you 
had  better  get  out  of  the  dust." 

I  took  the  broom  from  the  corner,  and  began  to  sweep ; 
still  my  visitor  did  not  stir.  The  dust  rose  in  clouds ;  he 
rubbed  his  eyes,  and  moved  a  little  nearer  to  the  door.  Another 
sweep,  and,  to  escape  its  inflictions,  he  mounted  the  threshold. 
I  had  him  now  at  a  fair  advantage,  and  fairly  swept  him  out, 
and  shut  the  door  in  his  face. 

Philander  (looking  through  the  ivindow)  :  "  Well,  I  guess 
you  did  me  then ;  but  'tis  deuced  hard  to  outwit  a  Yankee." 

This  freed  me  from  his  company,  and  he,  too,  never  re- 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  75 

peated  his  visit ;  so  I  found  by  experience,  that  once  smartly 
rebuked,  they  did  not  like  to  try  their  strength  with  you  a 
second  time.  When  a  sufficient  time  had  elapsed  for  the  dry 
ing  of  my  twenty  bushels  of  apples,  I  sent  a  Cornish  lad,  in 
our  employ,  to  Betty  Fye's,  to  inquire  if  they  were  ready, 
and  when  I  should  send  the  cart  for  them.  Dan  returned 
with  a  yellow,  smoke-dried  string  of  pieces,  dangling  from  his 
arm.  Thinking  that  these  were  a  specimen  of  the  whole,  I 
inquired  when  we  were  to  send  the  barrel  for  the  rest. 

"  Lord,  ma'am,  this  is  all  there  be." 

"  Impossible  !     All  out  of  twenty  bushels  of  apples  1" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  boy,  with  a  grin.  "  The  old  witch  told  me 
that  this  was  all  that  was  left  of  your  share ;  that  when  they 
were  fixed  enough,  she  put  them  under  her  bed  for  safety,  and 
the  mice  and  the  children  had  eaten  them  all  up  but  this  string." 

This  ended  my  dealings  with  Betty  Fye. 

I  had  another  incorrigible  borrower  in  the  person  of  old 

Betty  B .  This  Betty  was  unlike  the  rest  of  my  Yankee 

borrowers ;  she  was  handsome  in  her  person,  and  remarkably 
civil,  and  she  asked  for  the  loan  of  every  thing  in  such  a  frank, 
pleasant  manner,  that  for  some  time  I  hardly  knew  how  to 
refuse  her.  After  I  had  been  a  loser  to  a  considerable  ex 
tent,  and  declined  lending  her  any  more,  she  refrained  from 
coming  to  the  house  herself,  but  sent  in  her  name  the  most 
beautiful  boy  in  the  world :  a.  perfect  cherub,  with  regular 
features,  blue,  smiling  eyes,  rosy  cheeks,  and  lovely  curling 
auburn  hair,  who  said,  in  the  softest  tones  imaginable,  that 
mammy  had  sent  him,  with  her  compliments,  to  the  English 
lady  to  ask  the  loan  of  a  little  sugar  or  tea.  I  could  easily 
have  refused  the  mother,  but  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart 
to  say  nay  to  her  sweet  boy. 

There  was  something  original  about  Betty  B ,  and  I 

must  give  a  slight  sketch  of  her. 


76  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

She  lived  in  a  lone  shanty  in  the  woods,  which  ha<d  been 
erected  by  lumberers  some  years  before,  and  which  was  des 
titute  of  a  single  acre  of  clearing  ;  yet  Betty  had  plenty  of 
potatoes,  without  the  trouble  of  planting,  or  the  expense  of 
buying  ;  she  never  kept  a  cow,  yet  she  sold  butter  and  milk  ; 
but  she  had  a  fashion,  and  it  proved  a  convenient  one  to  her, 
of  making  pets  of  the  cattle  of  her  neighbours.  If  our  cows 
strayed  from  their  pastures,  they  were  always  found  near 
Betty's  shanty,  for  she  regularly  supplied  them  with  salt, 
which  formed  a  sort  of  bond  of  union  between  them  ;  and,  in 
return  for  these  little  attentions,  they  suffered  themselves  to 
be  milked  before  they  returned  to  their  respective  owners. 
Her  mode  of  obtaining  eggs  and  fowls  was  on  the  same  eco 
nomical  plan,  and  we  all  looked  upon  Betty  as  a  sort  of  free 
booter,  living  upon  the  property  of  others.  She  had  had  three 
husbands,  and  he  with  whom  she  now  lived  was  not  her  hus 
band,  although  the  father  of  the  splendid  child  whose  beauty 
so  won  upon  my  woman's  heart.  Her  first  husband  was  still 
living,  (a  thing  by  no  means  uncommon  among  persons  of  her 
class,  in  Canada,)  and  though  they  had  quarrelled  and  parted 
years  ago,  he  occasionally  visited  his  wife  to  see  her  eldest 
daughter,  Betty  the  younger,  who  was  a  child.  She  was  now 
a  fine  girl  of  sixteen,  as  beautiful  as  her  little  brother.  Betty's 
second  husband  had  been  killed  in  one  of  our  fields  by  a  tree 
falling  upon  him  while  ploughing  under  it.  He  was  buried 
upon  the  spot,  part  of  the  blackened  stump  forming  his  monu 
ment.  In  truth,  Betty's  character  was  none  of  the  best,  and 
many  of  the  respectable  farmers'  wives  regarded  her  with  a 
jealous  eye. 

"  I  am  so  jealous  of  that  nasty  Betty  B ,"  said  the  wife 

of  an  Irish  captain  in  the  army,  and  our  near  neighbour,  to 
me,  one  day  as  we  were  sitting  at  work  together.  She  was  a 
West  Indian,  and  a  negro  by  the  mother's  side,  but  an  uncom- 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  77 

xnon  fine-looking  mulatto,  very  passionate,  and  very  watchful 
over  the  conduct  of  her  husband.  "  Are  you  not  afraid  of 
letting  Captain  Moodie  go  near  her  shanty  V 

"  No,  indeed  ;  and  if  I  were  so  foolish  as  to  be  jealous,  it 
would  not  be  of  old  Betty,  but  of  the  beautiful  young  Betty, 
her  daughter."  Perhaps  this  was  rather  mischievous  on  my 
part,  for  the  poor  dark  lady  went  off  in  a  frantic  fit  of  jealousy, 
but  this  time  it  was  not  of  old  Betty. 

Another  American  squatter  was  always  sending  over  to 
borrow  a  small-tooth  comb,  which  she  called  a  vermin  de 
stroyer ;  and  once  the  same  person  asked  the  loan  of  a  towel, 
as  a  friend  had  come  from  the  States  to  visit  her,  and  the  only 
one  she  had,  had  been  made  into  a  best  "pinny"  for  the 
child  ;  she  likewise  begged  a  sight  in  the  looking-glass,  as  she 
wanted  to  try  on  a  new  cap,  to  see  if  it  were  fixed  to  her 
mind.  This  woman  must  have  been  a  mirror  of  neatness 
when  compared  with  her  dirty  neighbours. 

One  night  I  was  roused  up  from  my  bed  for  the  Iqan  of  a 
pair  of  "  steelyards."  For  what  purpose,  think  you,  gen 
tle  reader  1  To  weigh  a  new-born  infant.  The  process  was 
performed  by  tying  the  poor  squalling  thing  up  in  a  small 
shawl,  and  suspending  it  to  one  of  the  hooks.  The  child  was 
a  fine  boy,  and  weighed  ten  pounds,  greatly  to  the  delight  of 
the  Yankee  father.  One  of  the  drollest  instances  of  borrowing 
I  have  ever  heard  of  was  told  me  by  a  friend.  A  maid-ser 
vant  asked  her  mistress  to  go  out  on  a  particular  afternoon, 
as  she  was  going  to  have  a  party  of  her  friends,  and  wanted 
the  loan  of  the  drawing-room.  It  would  be  endless  to  enume 
rate  our  losses  in  this  way ;  but,  fortunately  for  us,  the  arrival 
of  an  English  family  in  our  immediate  vicinity  drew  off  the 
attention  of  our  neighbours  in  that  direction,  and  left  us  time 
to  recover  a  little  from  their  persecutions. 

This  system  of  borrowing  is  not  wholly  confined  to  the 


78  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE 

poor  and  ignorant ;  it  pervades  every  class  of  society.  If  a 
party  is  given  in  any  of  the  small  villages,  a  boy  is  sent  round 
from  house  to  house,  to  collect  all  the  plates  and  dishes,  knives 
and  forks,  tea-spoons  and  candlesticks,  that  are  presentable,  for 
the  use  of  the  company. 

During  my  stay  at  the  hotel,  I  took  a  dress  out  of  my 
trunk,  and  hung  it  up  upon  a  peg  in  my  chamber,  in  order  to 
remove  the  creases  it  had  received  from  close  packing.  Re 
turning  from  a  walk  in  the  afternoon,  I  found  a  note  upon  my 
dressing-table,  inviting  us  to  spend  the  evening  with  a  clergy 
man's  family  in  the  village ;  and  as  it  was  nearly  time  to 
dress,  I  went  to  the  peg  to  take  down  my  gown.  Was  it  a 
dream1? — the  gown  was  gone.  I  re-opened  the  trunk,  to  see 
if  I  had  replaced  it ;  I  searched  every  corner  of  the  room,  but 
all  in  vain;  no  where  could  I  discover  the  thing  I  sought. 
What  had  become  of  it?  The  question  was  a  delicate  one, 
which  I  did  not  like  to  put  to  the  young  ladies  of  the  truly 
respectable  establishment ;  still,  the  loss  was  great,  and  at 
that  moment  very  inconvenient.-  While  I  was  deliberating 
on  what  course  to  pursue,  Miss  S entered  the  room. 

"  I  guess  you  missed  your  dress,"  she  said,  with  a  smile. 

"  Do  you  know  where  it  is  ?" 

"Oh,  sure.  Miss  L ,  the  dressmaker,  came  in  just 

after  you  left.  She  is  a  very  particular  friend  of  mine,  and  I 
showed  her  your  dress.  She  admired  it  above  all  things,  and 

borrowed  it,  to  get  the  pattern  for  Miss  R 's  wedding 

dress.  She  promised  to  return  it  to-morrow." 

"  Provoking !  I  wanted  it  to-night.  Who  ever  heard  of 
borrowing  a  person's  dress  without  the  leave  of  the  owner  ? 
Truly,  this  is  a  free-and-easy  country  !" 

One  very  severe  winter  night,  a  neighbour  borrowed  of 
me  a  blanket — it  was  one  of  my  best — for  the  use  of  a  stran 
ger  who  was  passing  the  night  at  her  house.  I  could  not  well 


OUR  FIRST  SETTLEMENT.  79 

refuse ;  but  at  that  time,  the  world  pressed  me  sore,  and  I 
could  ill  spare  it.  Two  years  elapsed,  and  I  saw  no  more  of 
my  blanket ;  at  length  I  sent  a  note  to  the  lady,  requesting 
it  to  be  returned.  I  got  a  very  short  answer  back,  and  the 
blanket,  alas  !  worn  threadbare ;  the  borrower  stating  that  she 
had  sent  the  article,  but  really  she  did  not  know  what  to  do 
without  it,  as  she  wanted  it  to  cover  the  children's  bed.  She 
certainly  forgot  that  I,  too,  had  children,  who  wanted  covering 
as  well  as  her  own.  But  I  have  said  so  much  of  the  ill  results 
of  others'  borrowing,  that  I  will  close  this  sketch  by  relating 
my  own  experience  in  this  way. 

After  removing  to  the  bush,  many  misfortunes  befell  us, 
which  deprived  us  of  our  income,  and  reduced  us  to  great 
poverty.  In  fact,  we  were  strangers,  and  the  knowing  ones 
took  us  in  ;  and  for  many  years  we  struggled  with  hard 
ships  which  would  have  broken  stouter  hearts  than  ours,  had 
not  our  trust  been  placed  in  the  Almighty,  who  among  all  our 
troubles  never  wholly  deserted  us. 

While  my  husband  was  absent  on  the  frontier  during 
the  rebellion,  my  youngest  boy  fell  very  sick,  and  required 
my  utmost  care,  both  by  night  and  day.  To  attend  to  him 
properly,  a  candle  burning  during  the  night  was  necessary. 
The  last  candle  was  burnt  out ;  I  had  no  money  to  buy  an 
other,  and  no  fat  from  which  I  could  make  one.  I  hated  bor 
rowing  ;  but,  for  the  dear  child's  sake,  I  overcame  my 
scruples,  and  succeeded  in  procuring  a  candle  from  a  good 
neighbour,  but  with  strict  injunctions  (for  it  was  her  last) 
that  I  must  return  it  if  I  did  not  require  it  during  the  night. 

I  went  home  quite  grateful  with  my  prize.  It  was  a  clear 
moonlight  night — the  dear  boy  was  better,  so  I  told  old  Jenny, 
my  Irish  servant,  to  go  to  bed,  as  I  would  lie  down  in  my 
clothes  by  the  child,  and  if  he  were  worse  I  would  get  up  and 
light  the  candle.  It  happened  that  a  pane  of  glass  was  broken 


80  EOUGIUNG  IT  IN  THE  BUSK. 

out  of  the  window-frame,  and  I  had  supplied  its  place  by  fit 
ting  in  a  shingle  ;  my  friend  Emilia  S had  a  large  Tom 
cat,  who,  when  his  mistress  was  absent,  often  paid  me  a  preda 
tory  or  borrowing  visit ;  and  Tom  had  a  practice  of  pushing 
in  this  wooden  pane,  in  order  to  pursue  his  lawless  depreda 
tions.  I  had  forgotten  all  this,  and  never  dreaming  that  Torn 
would  appropriate  such  light  food,  I  left  the  candle  lying  in 
the  middle  of  the  table,  just  under  the  window. 

Between  sleeping  and  waking,  I  heard  the  pane  gently 
pushed  in.  The  thought  instantly  struck  me  that  it  was  Tom, 
and  that,  for  lack  of  something  better,  he  might  steal  my  pre 
cious  candle. 

I  sprang  up  from  the  bed,  just  in  time  to  see  him  dart  through 
the  broken  window,  dragging  the  long  white  candle  after  him. 
I  flew  to  the  door,  and  pursued  him  7^tt//*over  the  field,  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  I  can  see  him  now,  as  I  saw  him  then,  scam 
pering  away  for  dear  life,  with  his  prize  trailing  behind  him, 
gleaming  like  a  silver  tail  in  the  bright  light  of  the  moon. 

Ah!  never  did  I  feel  more  acutely  the  truth  of  the  proverb, 
"Those  that  go  a-borrowing  go  a-sorrowing,"  than  I  did  that 
night.  My  poor  boy  awoke  ill  and  feverish,  and  I  had  no 
light  to  assist  him,  or  even  to  look  into  his  sweet  face,  to 
see  how  far  I  dared  hope  that  the  light  of  day  would  find 
him  better. 


OLD  SATAN  AND  TOM  WILSON'S  NOSE.  81 


CHAPTER   VI. 

OLD    SATAN    AND    TOM    WILSON'S    NOSE. 

"  A  nose,  kind  sir !    Sure  mother  Nature, 
With  all  her  freaks,  ne'er  form'd  this  feature. 
If  such  were  mine,  I'd  try  and  trade  it, 
And  swear  the  gods  had  never  made  it." 

I  FTER  reducing  the  log  cabin  into  some  sort  of  order,  we 
^-  contrived,  with  the  aid  of  a  few  boards,  to  make  a  bed- 
oset  for  poor  Tom  Wilson,  who  continued  to  shake  every 
ay  with  the  pitiless  ague.  There  was  no  way  of  admitting 
ght  and  air  into  this  domicile,  which  opened  into  the  general 
partment,  but  through  a  square  hole  cut  in  one  of  the  planks, 
jst  wide  enough  to  admit  a  man's  head  through  the  aperture, 
[ere  we  made  Tom  a  comfortable  bed  on  the  floor,  and  did 
le  best  we  could  to  nurse  him  through  his  sickness.  His 
>ng,  thin  face,  emaciated  with  disease,  and  surrounded  by 
uge  black  whiskers,  and  a  beard  of  a  week's  growth,  looked 
erfectly  unearthly.  He  had  only  to  stare  at  the  baby  to 
•ighten  her  almost  out  of  her  wits. 

"  How  fond  that  young  one  is  of  me,"  he  would  say ;  "  she 
des  for  joy  at  the  sight  of  me." 

Among  his  curiosities,  and  he  had  many,  he  held  in  great 
steem  a  huge  nose,  made  hollow  to  fit  his  face,  which  his 
ither,  a  being  almost  as  eccentric  as  himself,  had  carved  out 
f  boxwood.  When  he  slipped  this  nose  over  his  own  (which 
ras  no  beautiful  classical  specimen  of  a  nasal  organ),  it  made 

4* 


82  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSK. 

a  most  perfect  and  hideous  disguise.  The  mother  who  bore 
him  never  would  have  recognized  her  accomplished  son. 

Numberless  were  the  tricks  he  played  off  with  this  nose. 
Once  he  walked  through  the  streets  of ,  with  this  pro 
boscis  attached  to  his  face.  "  What  a  nose  !  Look  at  the 
man  with  the  nose  !"  cried  all  the  boys  in  the  streets.  A 
party  of  Irish  emigrants  passed  at  the  moment.  The  men, 
with  the  courtesy  natural  to  their  nation,  forbore  to  laugh  in 
the  gentleman's  face  ;  but  after  they  had  passed,  Tom  looked 
back,  and  saw  them  bent  half  double  in  convulsions  of  mirth. 
Tom  made  the  party  a  low  bough,  gravely  took  off  his  nose, 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

The  day  after  this  frolic,  he  had  a  very  severe  fit  of  the 
ague,  and  looked  so  ill  that  I  really  entertained  fears  for  his 
life.  The  hot  fit  had  just  left  him,  and  he  lay  upon  his  bed 
bedewed  with  a  cold  perspiration,  in  a  state  of  complete 
exhaustion. 

"  Poor  Tom,"  said  I,  "  he  has  passed  a  horrible  day,  but 
the  worst  is  over,  and  I  will  make  him  a  cup  of  coffee."  While 
preparing  it,  Old  Satan  came  in  and  began  to  talk  to  my  hus 
band.  He  happened  to  sit  directly  opposite  the  aperture 
which  gave  light  and  air  to  Tom's  berth.  This  man  was  dis 
gustingly  ugly.  He  had  lost  one  eye  in  a  quarrel.  It  had 
been  gouged  out  in  the  barbarous  conflict,  and  the  side  of  his 
face  presented  a  succession  of  horrible  scars  inflicted  by  the 
teeth  of  his  savage  adversary.  The  nickname  he  had  acquired 
through  the  country  sufficiently  testified  to  the  respectability 
of  his  character,  and  dreadful  tales  were  told  of  him  in  the 
neighbourhood,  where  he  was  alike  feared  and  hated. 

The  rude  fellow,  with  his  accustomed  insolence,  began 
abusing  the  old  country  folks. 

The  English  were  great  bullies,  he  said  ;  they  thought  no 
one  could  fight  but  themselves ;  but  the  Yankees  had  whipped 


OLD  SATAN  AND  TOM  WILSON'S  NOSE.  83 

them,  and  would  whip  them  again.  He  was  not  afear'd  of 
them,  he  never  was  afear'd  in  his  life. 

Scarcely  were  the  words  out  of  his  mouth,  when  a  horrible 
apparition  presented  itself  to  his  view.  Slowly  rising  from 
his  bed,  and  putting  on  the  fictitious  nose,  while  he  drew  his 
white  night-cap  over  his  ghastly  and  livid  brow,  Tom  thrust 
his  face  through  the  aperture,  and  uttered  a  diabolical  cry ; 
then  sank  down  upon  his  unseen  couch  as  noiselessly  as  he 
had  arisen.  The  cry  was  like  nothing  human,  and  it  was 
echoed  by  an  involuntary  scream  from  the  lips  of  our  maid 
servant  and  myself. 

"  Good  God  !  what's  that  ?"  cried  Satan,  falling  back  in  his 
chair,  and  pointing  to  the  vacant  aperture.  "  Did  you  hear 
it "?  did  you  see  it  1  It  beats  the  universe.  I  never  saw  a 
ghost  or  the  devil  before  !" 

Moodie,  who  had  recognized  the  ghost,  and  greatly  en 
joyed  the  fun,  pretended  profound  ignorance,  and  coolly 
insinuated  that  Old  Satan  had  lost  his  senses.  The  man  was 
bewildered  ;  he  stared  at  the  vacant  aperture,  then  at  us  in 
turn,  as  if  he  doubted  the  accuracy  of  his  own  vision.  "  Tis 
tarnation  odd,"  he  said  ;  "  but  the  women  heard  it  too." 

"  I  heard  a  sound,"  I  said,  "  a  dreadful  sound,  but  I  saw  no 
ghost." 

"  Sure  an'  'twas  himsel',"  said  my  lowland  Scotch  girl, 
who  now  perceived  the  joke ;  "  he  was  a  seeken'  to  gie  us 
puir  bodies  a  wee  fricht." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  subject  to  these  sort  of  fits  ?" 
said  I.  "You  had  better  speak  to  the  doctor  about  them. 
Such  fancies,  if  they  are  not  attended  to,  often  end  in  mad 
ness." 

"  Mad  !"  (very  indignantly)  "  I  guess  I'm  not  mad,  but  as 
wide  awake  as  you  are.  Did  I  not^see  it  with  my  own  eyes? 
And  then  the  noise— I  could  not  make  such  a  tarnation  outcry 


84  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THL1  £USH. 

to  save  my  life.  But  be  it  man  or  devil,  I  don't  care,  I'm  not 
afear'd,"  doubling  his  fist  very  undecidedly  at  the  hole.  Again 
the  ghastly  head  was  protruded — the  dreadful  eyes  rolled 
wildly  in  their  hollow  sockets,  and  a  yell  more  appalling  than 
the  former  rang  through  the  room.  The  man  sprang  from 
his  chair,  which  he  overturned  in  his  fright,  and  stood  for  an 
instant  with  his  one  eyeball  starting  from  his  head,  and 
glaring  upon  the  spectre ;  his  cheeks  deadly  pale  ;  the  cold 
perspiration  streaming  from  his  face  ;  his  lips  dissevered,  and 
his  teeth  chattering  in  his  head. 

"  There — there — there.  Look — look,  it  comes  again  ! — 
the  devil !— the  devil !" 

Here  Tom,  who  still  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  his  victim, 
gave  a  knowing  wink,  and  thrust  his  tongue  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  He  is  coming  ! — he  is  coming  !"  cried  the  affrighted 
wretch  ;  and  clearing  the  open  doorway  writh  one  leap,  he  fled 
across  the  field  at  full  speed.  The  stream  intercepted  his 
path — he  passed  it  at  a  bound,  plunged  into  the  forest,  and 
was  out  of  sight. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !"  chuckled  poor  Tom,  sinking  down  exhausted 
on  his  bed.  "  O  that  I  had  strength  to  follow  up  my  advan 
tage,  I  would  lead  Old  Satan  such  a  chase  that  he  should  think 
his  namesake  was  in  truth  behind  him." 

During  the  si&  weeks  that  we  inhabited  that  wretched 
cabin,  we  never  were  troubled  by  Old  Satan  again.  As  Tom 
slowly  recovered,  and  began  to  regain  his  appetite,  his  soul 
sickened  over  the  salt  beef  and  pork,  which,  owing  to  our 
distance  from  —  — ,  formed  our  principal  fare.  He  pos 
itively  refused  to  touch  the  sad  bread,  as  my  Yankee  neigh 
bours  very  appropriately  termed  the  unleavened  cakes  in  the 
pan ;  and  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  send  a  man  on  horseback 
eight  miles  to  fetch  a  loaf  of  bread. 

"  Do,  my  dear  Mrs.  Moodie,  like  a  good  Christian  as  you 


MY  FIRST  CANADIAN  LOAF.  85 

are,  give  me  a  morsel  of  the  baby's  biscuit,  and  try  and  make 
us  some  decent  bread.  The  stuff  your  servant  gives  us  is  un 
eatable,"  said  Wilson  to  me,  in  most  imploring  accents. 

"  Most  willingly.  But  I  have  no  yeast ;  and  I  never  baked 
in  one  of  those  strange  kettles  in  my  life." 

"I'll  go  to  old  Joe's  wife  and  borrow  some,"  said  he; 
"  they  are  always  borrowing  of  you."  Away  he  went  across 
the  field,  but  soon  returned.  I  looked  into  his  jug — it  was 
empty.  "  No  luck,"  said  he ;  "  those  stingy  wretches  had 
just  baked  a  fine  batch  of  bread,  and  they  would  neither 
lend  nor  sell  a  loaf;  but  they  told  me  how  to  make  their 
milk-emptyings." 

"  Well ;  discuss  the  same ;"  but  I  much  doubted  if  he 
could  remember  the  recipe. 

"  You  are  to  take  an  old  tin  pan,"  said  he,  sitting  down  on 
the  stool,  and  poking  the  fire  with  a  stick. 

"  Must  it  be  an  old  one  ?"  said  I,  laughing. 

"  Of  course  ;  they  said  so." 

"  And  what  am  I  to  put  into  it  ?" 

"  Patience  ;  let  me  begin  at  the  beginning.  Some  flour 
and  some  milk — but,  by  George  !  I've  forgot  all  about  it.  I 
was  wondering  as  I  came  across  the  field  why  they  called  the 
yeast  mi7&-emptyings,  and  that  put  the  way  to  make  it  quite 
out  of  my  head.  But  never  mind ;  it  is  only  ten  o'clock  by 
my  watch.  I  have  nothing  to  do  ;  I  will  go  again." 

He  went.  Would  I  had  been  there  to  hear  the  colloquy 
between  him  and  Mrs.  Joe ;  he  described  it  something  to  this 
effect : — 

Mrs.  Joe :  "  Well,  stranger,  what  do  you  want  now  ?" 

Tom :  "  I  have  forgotten  the  way  you  told  me  how  to 
make  the  bread." 

Mrs.  Joe :  "  I  never  told  you  how  to  make  bread.  I 
guess  you  are  a  fool.  People  have  to  raise  bread  before  they 


86  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

can  bake  it.  Pray  who  sent  you  to  make  game  of  me  1  I 
guess  somebody  as  wise  as  yourself," 

Tom  :  "  Th»  lady  at  whose  house  I  am  staying." 

Mrs.  Joe  :  "  Lady  !  I  can  tell  you  that  we  have  no  ladies 
here.  So  the  old  woman  who  lives  in  the  old  log  shanty  in 
the  hollow  don't  know  how  to  make  bread.  A  clever  wife 
that!  Are  you  her  husband?"  (Tom  shakes  his  head.) 
"Her  brother?"  (Another  shake.)  "Her  son1?  Do  you 
hear  ?  or  are  you  deaf?"  (Going  quite  close  up  to  him.) 

Tom  (moving  back) :  "  Mistress,  I'm  not  deaf ;  and  who 
or  what  I  am  is  nothing  to  you.  Will  you  oblige  me  by 
telling  me  how  to  make  the  mill-emptyings  ;  and  this  time  I'll 
put  it  down  in  my  pocket-book." 

Mrs.  Joe  (with  a  strong  sneer)  :  "  Mill-emptyings  !  Milk, 
I  told  you.  So  you  expect  me  to  answer  your  questions,  and 
give  back  nothing  in  return.  Get  you  gone  ;  I'll  tell  you  no 
more  about  it." 

Tom  (bowing  very  low)  :  "  Thank  you  for  your  civility.  Is 
the  old  woman  who  lives  in  the  little  shanty  near  the  apple- 
trees  more  obliging  ?" 

Mrs.  Joe  :  "  That's  my  husband's  mother.  You  may  try. 
I  guess  she'll  give  you  an  answer."  (Exit,  slamming  the  door 
in  his  face.) 

"  And  what  did  you  do  then  ?"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  went  of  course.  The  door  was  open,  and  I  recon 
noitred  the  premises  before  I  ventured  in.  I  liked  the  phiz  of 
the  old  woman  a  deal  better  than  that  of  her  daughter-in-law, 
although  it  was  cunning  and  inquisitive,  and  as  sharp  as  a 
needle.  She  was  busy  shelling  cobs  of  Indian  corn  into  a 
barrel.  I  rapped  at  the  door.  She  told  me  to  come  in.  and 
in  I  stepped.  She  asked  me  if  I  wanted  her.  I  told  her  my 
errand,  at  which  she  laughed  heartily. 

Old  woman :  "  You  axe  from  the  old  country,  I  guess,  or 


MY  FIRST  CANADIAN  LOAF.  87 

you  would  know  how  to  make  m*7A>emptyings.  Now,  I 
always  prefer  bran-emptyings.  They  make  the  best  bread. 
The  milk,  I  opine,  gives  it  a  sourish  taste,  and  the  bran  is  the 
least  trouble." 

Tom :  "  Then  let  us  have  the  bran,  by  all  means.  How  do 
you  make  it  1" 

Old  woman :  "  I  put  a  double  handful  of  bran  into  a  small 
pot,  or  kettle,  but  a  jug  will  do,  and  a  tea-spoonful  of  salt ;  but 
mind  you  don't  kill  it  with  salt,  for  if  you  do,  it  won't  rise.  I 
then  add  as  much  warm  water,  at  blood-heat,  as  will  mix  it 
into  a  stiff  batter.  I  then  put  the  jug  into  a  pan  of  warm 
water,  and  set  it  on  the  hearth  near  the  fire,  and  keep  it  at  the 
same  heat  until  it  rises,  which  it  generally  will  do,  if  you 
attend  to  it,  in  two  or  three  hours'  time.  When  the  bran 
cracks  at  the  top,  and  you  see  white  bubbles  rising  through  it, 
jou  may  strain  it  into  your  flour,  and  lay  your  bread.  It 
makes  good  bread." 

Tom  :  "  My  good  woman,  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you. 
We  have  no  bran  ;  can  you  give  me  a  small  quantity  ?" 

Old  woman  :  "  I  never  give  any  thing.  You  Englishers, 
who  come  out  with  stacks  of  money,  can  afford  to  buy." 

Tom  :  "  Sell  me  a  small  quantity." 

Old  woman:  "I  guess  I  will."  (Edging  quite  close,  and 
fixing  her  sharp  eyes  on  him.)  "  You  must  be  very  rich  to 
buy  bran." 

Tom  (quizzically)  :  "  Oh,  very  rich." 

Old  woman  :  "  How  do  you  get  your  money  1" 

Tom  (sarcastically)  :  "I  don't  steal  it." 

Old  woman  :  "  Pr'aps  not.  I  guess  you'll  soon  let  others 
do  that  for  you  if  you  don't  take  care.  Are  the  people  you 
live  with  related  to  you  ?" 

Tom  (hardly  able  to  keep  his  gravity) :  "  On  Eve's  side. 
They  are  my  friends." 


88  EOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

Old  woman  (in  surprise) :  "  And  do  they  keep  you  for 
nothing,  or  do  you  work  for  your  meat1?" 

Tom  (impatiently}-.  "Is  that  bran  ready  1"  (The  old 
woman  goes  to  the  bin,  and  measures  out  a  quart  of  bran.) 
"What  am  I  to  pay  you?" 

Old  woman  :  "  A  York  shilling." 

Tom  (wishing  to  test  her  honesty) :  "  Is  there  any  differ 
ence  between  a  York  shilling  and  a  shilling  of  British  cur 
rency  1" 

Old  woman  (evasively) :  "  I  guess  not.  Is  there  not  a 
place  in  England  called  York  V  (Looking  up  and  leering 
knowingly  in  his  face.) 

"  Tom  (laughing)  :  "  You  are  not  going  to  come  York 
over  me  in  that  way,  or  Yankee  either.  There  is  threepence 
for  your  pound  of  bran ;  you  are  enormously  paid." 

Old  woman  (calling  after  him)  :  "  But  the  recipe ;  do  you 
allow  nothing  for  the  recipe  ?" 

Tom  :  "  It  is  included  in  the  price  of  the  bran." 

"  And  so,"  said  he,  "  I  came  laughing  away,  rejoicing  in  my 
sleeve  that  I  had  disappointed  the  avaricious  old  cheat." 

The  next  thing  to  be  done  was  to  set  the  bran  rising.  By 
the  help  of  Tom's  recipe,  it  was  duly  mixed  in  the  coffee-pot, 
and  placed  within  a  tin  pan,  full  of  hot  water,  by  the  side  of 
the  fire.  I  have  often  heard  it  said  that  a  watched  pot  never 
boils  ;  and  there  certainly  was  no  lack  of  watchers  in  this  case. 
Tom  sat  for  hours  regarding  it  with  his  large  heavy  eyes,  the 
maid  inspected  it  from  time  to  time,  and  scarce  ten  minutes 
were  suffered  to  elapse  without  my  testing  the  heat  of  the  water, 
and  the  state  of  the  emptyings;  but  the  day  slipped  slowly 
away,  and  night  drew  on,  and  yet  the  watched  pot  gave  no 
signs  of  vitality.  Tom  sighed  deeply  when  he  sat  down  to 
tea  with  the  old  fare. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  he,  "  we  shall  get  some  good  bread  in 


MT  FIRST  CANADIAN  LOAF.  89 

the  morning ;  it  must  get  up  by  that  time,  I  will  wait  till  then. 
I  could  almost  starve  before  I  could  touch  these  leaden  cakes." 

The  tea-things  were  removed.  Tom  took  up  his  flute,  and 
commenced  a  series  of  the  wildest  voluntary  airs  that  ever 
were  breathed  forth  by  human  lungs.  Mad  jigs,  to  which  the 
gravest  of  mankind  might  have  cut  eccentric  capers.  We 
were  all  convulsed  with  laughter.  In  the  midst  of  one  of 
these  droll  movements,  Tom  suddenly  hopped  like  a  kangaroo 
(which  feat  he  performed  by  raising  himself  upon  tip-toes,  then 
flinging  himself  forward  with  a  stooping  jerk),  towards  the 
hearth,  and  squinting  down  into  the  coffee-pot  in  the  most 
quizzical  manner,  exclaimed,  "Miserable  chaff!  If  that  does 
not  make  you  rise,  nothing  will." 

I  left  the  bran  all  night  by  the  fire.  Early  in  the  morning 
I  had^the  satisfaction  of  finding  that  it  had  risen  high  above 
the  rim  of  the  pot,  and  was  surrounded  by  a  fine  crown  of 
bubbles. 

"  Better  late  than  never,"  thought  I,  as  I  emptied  the 
emptyings  into  my  flour.  "  Tom  is  not  up  yet.  I  will  make 
him  so  happy  with  a  loaf  of  new  bread,  nice  home-baked 
bread,  for  his  'breakfast."  It  was  my  first  Canadian  loaf.  I 
felt  quite  proud  of  it,  as  I  placed  it  in  the  odd  machine  in  which 
it  was  to  be  baked.  I  did  not  understand  the  method  of  ba 
king  in  these  ovens  ;  or  that  my  bread  should  have  remained 
in  the  kettle  for  half-an-hour,  until  it  had  risen  the  second 
time,  before  I  applied  the  fire  to  it,  in  order  that  the  bread 
should  be  light.  It  not  only  required  experience  to  know 
when  it  was  in  a  fit  state  for  baking,  but  the  oven  should  have 
been  brought  to  a  proper  temperature  to  receive  the  bread. 
Ignorant  of  all  this,  I  put  my  unrisen  loaf  into  a  cold  kettle, 
and  heaped  a  large  quantity  of  hot  ashes  above  and  below  it. 
The  first  intimation  I  had  of  the  result -of  my  experiment  was 
the  disagreeable  odour  of  burning  bread  filling  the  house. 


90  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  What  is  this  horrid  smell  ?"  cried  Tom,  issuing  from  his 
domicile,  in  his  shirt-sleeves.  "  Do  open  the  door,  Bell  (to  the 
maid)  ;  I  feel  quite  sick." 

"  It  is  the  bread,"  said  I,  taking  off  the  lid  of  the  oven  with 
the  tongs.  "  Dear  me,  it  is  all  burnt !" 

"  And  smells  as  sour  as  vinegar,"  says  he.  "  The  black 
bread  of  Sparta !" 

Alas !  for  my  maiden  loaf!  With  a  rueful  face  I  placed  it 
on  the  breakfast-table.  "  I  hoped  to  have  given  you  a  treat, 
but  I  fear  you  will  find  it  worse  than  the  cakes  in  the  pan." 

"  You  may  be  sure  of  that,"  said  Tom,  as  he  stuck  his 
knife  into  the  loaf,  and  drew  it  forth  covered  with  raw  dough. 
"  Oh,  Mrs.  Moodie  !  I  hope  you  make  better  books  than 
bread." 

We  were  all  sadly  disappointed.  The  others  submitted  to 
my  failure  good-naturedly,  and  made  it  the  subject  of  many 
droll,  but  not  unkindly,  witticisms.  For  myself,  I  could  have 
borne  the  severest  infliction  from  the  pen  of  the  most  formi 
dable  critic  with  more  fortitude  than  I  bore  the  cutting  up  of 
my  first  loaf  of  bread.  After  breakfast,  Moodie  and  Wilson 
rode  into  the  town ;  and  wrhen  they  returned  at  night  brought 
several  ]ong  letters  for  me.  Ah  !  those  first  kind  letters  from 
home !  Never  shall  I  forget  the  rapture  with  which  I  grasped 
them — the  eager,  trembling  haste  with  which  I  tore  them 
open,  while  the  blinding  tears  which  filled  my  eyes  hindered 
me  for  some  minutes  from  reading  a  word  which  they  con 
tained.  Sixteen  years  have  slowly  passed  away — it  appears 
haJf  a  century — but  never,  never  can  home  letters  give  me  the 
intense  joy  those  letters  did.  After  seven  years'  exile,  the 
hope  of  return  grows  feeble,  the  means  are  still  less  in  our 
power,  and  our  friends  give  up  all  hope  of  our  return ;  their 
letters  grow  fewer  and  colder,  their  expressions  of  attachment 
are  less  vivid ;  the  heart  has  formed  new  ties,  and  the  poor 


TOM  WILSONS  DEPARTURE.  91 

emigrant  is  nearly  forgotten.  Double  those  years,  and  it  is  as 
if  the  grave  had  closed  over  you,  and  the  hearts  that  once 
knew  and  loved  you,  know  you  no  more. 

Tom,  too,  had  a  large  packet  of  letters,  which  he  read  with 
great  glee.  After  re-perusing  them,  he  declared  his  intention 
of  setting  off  on  his  return  home  the  next  day.  We  tried  to 
persuade  him  to  stay  until  the  following  spring,  and  make  a 
fair  trial  of  the  country.  Arguments  were  thrown  away  upon 
him  ;  the  next  morning  our  eccentric  friend  was  ready  to 
start. 

"  Good-bye !"  quoth  he,  shaking  me  by  the  hand  as  if  he 
meant  to  sever  it  from  the  wrist.  "  When  next  we  meet  it 
will  be  in  New  South  Wales,  and  I  hope  by  that  time  you  will 
know  how  to  make  better  bread."  And  thus  ended  Tom  Wil 
son's  emigration  to  Canada.  He  brought  out  three  hundred 
pounds,  British  currency ;  he  remained  in  the  country  just  four 
months,  and  returned  to  England  with  barely  enough  to  pay 
his  passage  home. 


92  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

UNCLE     JOE     AND     HIS     FAMILY. 

"  Ay,  your  rogue  is  a  laughing  rogue,  and  not  a  whit  the  less  dangerous  for  the 
smile  on  his  lip,  which  comes  not  from  an  honest  heart,  which  reflects  the  light  of 
the  soul  through  the  eye.  All  is  hollow  and  dark  within  ;  and  the  contortion  of  the 
lip,  like  the  phosphoric  glow  upon  decayed  timber,  only  serves  to  point  out  the 
rottenness  within." 

UNCLE  JOE  !  I  see  him  now  before  me,  with  his  jolly  red 
face,  twinkling  black  eyes,  and  rubicund  nose.  No  thin, 
weasel-faced  Yankee  was  he,  looking  as  if  he  had  lived  upon 
'cute  ideas  and  speculations  all  his  life ;  yet  Yankee  he  was  by 
birth,  ay,  and  in  mind  too ;  for  a  more  knowing  fellow  at  a 
bargain  never  crossed  the  lakes  to  abuse  British  institutions 
and  locate  himself  comfortably  among  the  despised  Britishers. 
But,  then,  he  had  such  a  good-natured,  fat  face,  such  a  mis 
chievous,  mirth-loving  smile,  and  such  a  merry,  roguish  ex 
pression  in  those  small,  jet-black,  glittering  eyes,  that  you 
suffered  yourself  to  be  taken  in  by  him,  without  offering  the 
least  resistance  to  his  impositions. 

Uncle  Joe's  father  had  been  a  New  England  loyalist,  and 
his  doubtful  attachment  to  the  British  government  had  been 

repaid  by  a  grant  of  land  in  the  township  of  H .    He  was 

the  first  settler  in  that  township,  and  chose  his  location  in  a 
remote  spot,  for  the  sake  of  a  beautiful  natural  spring,  which 
bubbled  up  in  a  small  stone  basin  in  the  green  bank  at  the 
back  of  the  house. 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  93 

"  Father  might  have  had  the  pick  of  the  township,"  quoth 
Uncle  Joe ;  "  but  the  old  coon  preferred  that  sup  of  good 
water  to  the  site  of  a  town.  Well,  I  guess  it's  seldom  I 
trouble  the  spring ;  and  whenever  I  step  that  way  to  water  the 
horses,  I  think  what  a  tarnation  fool  the  old  one  was,  to  throw 
away  such  a  chance  of  making  his  fortune,  for  such  cold  lap." 

"  Your  father  was  a  temperance  man  V 

"  Temperance  ! — lie  had  been  fond  enough  of  the  whiskey 
bottle  in  his  day.  He  drank  up  a  good  farm  in  the  United 
States,  and  then  he  thought  he  could  not  do  better  than  turn 
loyal,  and  get  one  here  for  nothing.  He  did  not  care  a  cent, 
not  he,  for  the  King  of  England.  He  thought  himself  as  good, 
any  how.  But  he  found  that  he  wTould  have  to  work  hard  here 
to  scratch  along,  and  he  was  mightily  plagued  with  the  rheu 
matics,  and  some  old  woman  told  him  that  good  spring-water 
was  the  best  cure  for  that ;  so  he  chose  this  poor,  light,  stony 
land  on  account  of  the  spring,  and  took  to  hard  work  and 
drinking  cold  water  in  his  old  age." 

"  How  did  the  change  agree  with  him  ]" 

"  I  guess  better  than  could  have  been  expected.  He  plant 
ed  that  fine  orchard,  and  cleared  his  hundred  acres,  and  we 
got  along  slick  enough  as  long  as  the  old  fellow  lived." 

"  And  what  happened  after  his  death,  that  obliged  you  to 
part  with  your  land  V 

"  Bad  times — bad  crops,"  said  Uncle  Joe,  lifting  his  shoul 
ders.  "  I  had  not  my  father's  way  of  scraping  money  to 
gether.  I  made  some  deuced  clever  speculations,  but  they  all 
failed.  I  married  young,  and  got  a  large  family ;  and  the 
women  critters  ran  up  heavy  bills  at  the  stores,  and  the  crops 
did  not  yield  enough  to  pay  them  ;  and  from  bad  we  got  to 

worse,  and  Mr.  C put  in  an  execution,  and  seized  upon 

the  whole  concern.  He  sold  it  to  your  man  for  double  what 
it  cost  him  ;  and  you  got  all  what  my  father  toiled  for  during 


94  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life  for  less  than  half  the  cash  he 
laid  out  upon  clearing  it." 

"  And  had  the  whiskey  nothing  to  do  with  this  change  1" 
said  I,  looking  him  in  the  face  suspiciously. 

"  Not  a  bit !  When  a  man  gets  into  difficulties,  it  is  the 
only  thing  to  keep  him  from  sinking  outright.  When  your 
husband  has  had  as  many  troubles  as  I  have  had,  he  will  know 
how  to  value  the  whiskey  bottle." 

This  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  queer-looking  ur 
chin  of  five  years  old,  dressed  in  a  long-tailed  coat  and  trow- 
sers,  popping  his  black  shock  head  in  at  the  door,  and  calling 
out, 

"  Uncle  Joe  ! — You're  wanted  to  hum." 

"  Is  that  your  nephew  ?" 

"  No !  I  guess  'tis  my  woman's  eldest  son,"  said  Uncle  Joe, 
rising,  "  but  they  call  me  Uncle  Joe.  'Tis  a  spry  chap  that — 
as  cunning  as  a  fox.  I  tell  you  what  it  is — he  will  make  a 
smart  man.  Go  home,  Ammon,  and  tell  your  ma  that  I  am 
coming." 

"  I  won't,"  said  the  boy ;  "  you  may  go  hum  and  tell  her 
yourself.  She  has  wanted  wood  cut  this  hour,  and  you'll 
catch  it !" 

Away  ran  the  dutiful  son,  but  not  before  he  had  applied 
his  forefinger  significantly  to  the  side  of  his  nose,  and,  with  a 
knowing  wink,  pointed  in  the  direction  of  home. 

Uncle  Joe  obeyed  the  signal,  dryly  remarking  that  he  could 
not  leave  the  barn  door  without  the  old  hen  clucking  him  back. 

At  this  period  we  were  still  living  in  Old  Satan's  log  house, 
and  anxiously  looking  out  for  the  first  snow  to  put  us  in  pos 
session  of  the  good,  substantial  log  dwelling  occupied  by  Un 
cle  Joe  and  his  family,  which  consisted  of  a  brown  brood  of 
seven  girls,  and  the  highly-prized  boy  who  rejoiced  in  the  ex 
traordinary  name  of  Ammon. 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  95 

Strange  names  are  to  be  found  in  this  free  country.  "What 
think  you,  gentle  reader,  of  Solomon  Sly,  Reynard  Fox,  and 
Hiram  Doolittle  ;  all  veritable  names,  and  belonging  to  sub- 
stantial  yeomen  ?  After  Ammon  and  Ichabod,  I  should  not 
be  at  all  surprised  to  meet  with  Judas  Iscariot,  Pilate,  and 
Herod.  And  then  the  female  appellations !  But  the  subject 
is  a  delicate  one,  and  I  will  forbear  to  touch  upon  it.  I  have 
enjoyed  many  a  hearty  laugh  over  the  strange  affectations 
which  people  designate  here  very  handsome  names.  I  prefer 
the  old  homely  Jewish  names,  such  as  that  which  it  pleased 
my  godfather  and  godmothers  to  bestow  upon  me,  to  one  of 
those  high-sounding  Christianities,  the  Minervas,  Cinderellas, 
and  Almerias  of  Canada.  The  love  of  singular  names  is  here 
carried  to  a  marvellous  extent.  It  is  only  yesterday  that,  in 
passing  through  one  busy  village,  I  stopped  in  astonishment 
before  a  tombstone  headed  thus  : — "  Sacred  to  the  memory 
of  Silence  Sharman,  the  beloved  wife  of  Asa  Sharman."  Was 
the  woman  deaf  and  dumb,  or  did  her  friends  hope  by  be 
stowing  upon  her  such  an  impossible  name  to  still  the  voice 
of  Nature,  and  check,  by  an  admonitory  appellative,  the 
active  spirit  that  lives  in  the  tongue  of  woman.  Truly,  Asa 
Sharman,  if  thy  wife  was  silent  by  nature  as  well  as  by  name, 
thou  wert  a  fortunate  man  ! 

But  to  return  to  Uncle  Joe.  He  made  many  fair  prom 
ises  of  leaving  the  residence  we  had  bought,  the  moment 
he  had  sold  his  crops  and  could  remove  his  family.  We 
could  see  no  interest  which  could  be  served  by  his  deceiving 
us,  and  therefore  we  believed  him,  striving  to  make  ourselves 
as  comfortable  as  we  could  in  the  mean  time  in  our  present 
wretched  abode.  But  matters  are  never  so  bad  but  that  they 
may  be  worse.  One  day  when  we  were  at  dinner,  a  wagon 

drove  up  to  the  door,  and  Mr. alighted,  accompanied  by 

a  fine-looking,  middle-aged  man,  who  proved  to  be  Captain 


96  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

S ,  who  had  just  arrived  from  Demerara  with  his  wife 

and  family.  Mr. ,  who  had  purchased  the  farm  of  Old  Sa 
tan,  had  brought  Captain  S over  to  inspect  the  land,  as 

he  wished  to  buy  a  farm,  and  settle  in  that  neighbourhood. 
With  some  difficulty  I  contrived  to  accommodate  the  visitors 
with  seats,  and  provide  them  with  a  tolerable  dinner.  For 
tunately,  Moodie  had  brought  in  a  brace  of  fine  fat  partridges 
that  morning ;  these  the  servant  transferred  to  a  pot  of  boil 
ing  water,  in  which  she  immersed  them  for  the  space  of  a 
minute — a  novel  but  very  expeditious  way  of  removing  the 
feathers,  which  then  come  off  at  the  least  touch.  In  less  than 
ten  minutes  they  were  stuffed,  trussed,  and  in  the  bake-kettle  ; 
and  before  the  gentlemen  returned  from  walking  over  the 
farm,  the  dinner  was  on  the  table. 

To  our  utter  consternation,  Captain  S agreed  to  pur 
chase,  and  asked  if  we  could  give  him  possession  in  a  week  ! 

"  Good  heavens !"  cried  I,  glancing  reproachfully  at  Mr. 
,  who  was  discussing  his  partridge  with  stoical  indiffer 
ence.  "  What  will  become  of  us  1  Where  are  we  to  go  ?" 

"  Oh,  make  yourself  easy  ;  I  will  force  that  old  witch, 
Joe's  mother,  to  clear  out." 

"  But  'tis  impossible  to  stow  ourselves  into  that  pig-sty." 

"  It  will  only  be  for  a  week  or  two,  at  farthest.  This  is 
October ;  Joe  will  be  sure  to  be  off  by  the  first  of  the  sleigh 
ing." 

"  But  if  she  refuses  to  give  up  the  place  1" 

"  Oh,  leave  her  to  me.  I'll  talk  her  over,"  said  the  know 
ing  land  speculator.  "  Let  it  come  to  the  worst,"  he  said, 
turning  to  my  husband,  "  she  will  go  out  for  the  sake  of  a  few 
dollars.  By  the  by,  she  refused  to  bar  the  dower  when  I 
bought  the  place ;  we  must  cajole  her  out  of  that.  It  is  a  fine 
afternoon ;  suppose  we  walk  over  the  hill,  and  try  our  luck 
with  the  old  nigger  ?" 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  97 

I  felt  so  anxious  about  the  result  of  the  negotiation,  that, 
throwing  my  cloak  over  my  shoulders,  and  tying  on  my  "bon 
net  without  the  assistance  of  a  glass,  I  took  my  husband's 
arm,  and  we  walked  forth.  It  was  a  bright,  clear  afternoon, 
the  first  week  in  October,  and  the  fading  woods,  not  yet 
denuded  of  their  gorgeous  foliage,  glowed  in  a  mellow,  golden 
light.  A  soft  purple  haze  rested  on  the  bold  outline  of  the 
Haldemand  hills,  and  in  the  rugged  beauty  of  the  wild  land 
scape  I  soon  forgot  the  purport  of  our  visit  to  the  old 
woman's  log  hut. 

On  reaching  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  the  lovely  valley  in. 
which  our  future  home  lay,  smiled  peacefully  upon  us  from 
amidst  its  fruitful  orchards,  still  loaded  with  their  rich,  ripe 
fruit. 

"  What  a  pretty  place  it  is !"  thought  I,  for  the  first  time 
feeling  something  like  a  local  interest  in  the  spot  springing  up 
in  my  heart.  "  How  I  wish  those  odious  people  would  give 
us  possession  of  the  home  which  for  some  time  has  been 
our  own." 

The  log  hut  that  we  were  approaching,  and  in  which  the  old 

woman,  H ,  resided  by  herself — having  quarrelled  years 

ago  with  her  son's  wife — was  of  the  smallest  dimensions, 
only  containing  one  room,  which  served  the  old  dame  for 
kitchen,  and  bedroom,  and  all.  The  open  door,  and  a  few 
glazed  panes,  supplied  it  with  light  and  air;  while  a  huge 
hearth,  on  which  crackled  two  enormous  logs — which  are 
technically  termed  a  front  and  a  back  stick — took  up  nearly 
half  the  domicile ;  and  the  old  woman's  bed,  which  was  cov 
ered  with  an  unexceptionably  clean  patched  quilt,  nearly  the 
other  half,  leaving  just  room  for  a  small  home-made  deal 
table,  of  the  rudest  workmanship,  two  basswood-bottomed 
chairs,  stained  red,  one  of  which  was  a  rocking-chair,  appropri- 
solely  to  the  old  woman's  use,  and  a  spinning-wheel. 
5 


08  ROUGHING-  IT  /A'  THE  LUSH. 

Amidst  this  muddle  of  things— for  small  as  was  the  quantum 
of  furniture,  it  .was  all  crowded  into  such  a  tiny  space  that 
you  had  to  squeeze  your  way  through  it  in  the  "best  manner 
you  could — we  found  the  old  woman,  with  a  red  cotton  hand 
kerchief  tied  over  her  gray  locks,  hood-fashion,  shelling  white 
bush-beans  into  a  wooden  bowl.  Without  rising  from  her 
seat,  she  pointed  to  the  only  remaining  chair.  "I  guess, 
miss,  you  can  sit  there ;  and  if  the  others  can't  stand,  they 
can  make  a  seat  of  my  bed." 

The  gentlemen  assured  her  that  they  were  not  tired,  and 

could  dispense  with  seats.  Mr. then  went  up  to  the  old 

woman,  and  proffering  his  hand,  asked  after  her  health  in  his 
blandest  manner. 

"  I'm  none  the  better  for  seeing  you,  or  the  like  of  you," 
was  the  ungracious  reply.  "  You  have  cheated  my  poor  boy 
out  of  his  good  farm ;  and  I  hope  it  may  prove  a  bad  bargain 
to  you  and  yours." 

"  Mrs.  II ,"  returned  the  land  speculator,  nothing  ruf 
fled  by  her  unceremonious  greeting,  "  I  could  not  help  your 
son  giving  way  to  drink,  and  getting  into  my  debt.  If  people 
will  be  so  imprudent,  they  cannot  be  so  stupid  as  to  imagine 
that  others  can  suffer  for  their  folly." 

"  Suffer  /"  repeated  the  old  woman,  flashing  her  small, 
keen  black  eyes  upon  him  with  a  glance  of  withering  scorn. 
"  You  suffer !  I  wonder  what  the  widows  and  orphans  you 
have  cheated  would  say  to  that  ?  My  son  was  a  poor,  weak, 
silly  fool,  to  be  sucked  in  by  the  like  of  you.  For  a  debt  of 
eight  hundred  dollars — the  goods  never  cost  you  four  hundred 
— you  take  from  us  oar  good  form;  and  these,  I  s'posc," 
pointing  to  my  husband  and  me,  "  are  the  folk  you  sold  it  to. 
Pray,  miss,"  turning  quickly  to  me,  "  what  might  your  man 
give  for  the  place  1" 

"  Three  hundred  pounds  in  cash." 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  S2S  FAMILY.  99 

"  Poor  sufferer  !"  again  sneered  the  hag.  "  Four  hundred 
dollars  is  a  very  small  profit  in  as  many  weeks.  Well,  I 
guess,  you  beat  the  Yankees  hollow.  And  pray,  what  brought 
you  here  to-day,  scenting  about  you  like  a  carrion-crow  ?  We 
have  no  more  land  for  you  to  seize  from  us." 

Moodie  now  stepped  forward,  and  briefly  explained  our 
situation,  offering  the  old  woman  any  thing  in  reason  to  give 
up  the  cottage  and  reside  with  her  son  until  he  removed  from 
the  premises ;  which,  he  added,  must  be  in  a  very  short  time. 

The  old  dame  regarded  him  with  a  sarcastic  smile.  "  I 
guess,  Joe  will  take  his  own  time.  The  house  is  not  built 
which  is  to  receive  him ;  and  he  is  not  a  man  to  turn  his 
back  upon  a  warm  hearth  to  camp  in  the  wilderness.  You 
were  green  when  you  bought  a  farm  of  that  man,  without 
getting  along  with  it  the  right  of  possession." 

"But,  Mrs.  H ,  your  son  promised  to  go  out  the  first 

of  sleighing." 

"  Whcugh !"  said  the  old  woman.  "  Would  you  have  a 
man  give  away  his  hat  and  leave  his  own  head  bare?  It's 
neither  the  first  snow  nor  the  last  frost  that  will  turn  Joe  out 
of  his  comfortable  home.  I  tell  you  all  that  he  will  stay  here, 
if  it  is  only  to  plague  you." 

Threats  and  remonstrances  were  alike  useless,  the  old 
woman  remained  inexorable;  and  we  were  just  turning  to 
leave  the  house,  when  the  cunning  old  fox  exclaimed,  "  And 
now,  what  will  you  give  me  to  leave  my  place  V 

"  Twelve  dollars,  if  you  give  us  possession  next  Monday," 
said  my  husband. 

"  Twelve  dollars  !     I  guess  you  won't  get  me  out  for  that." 

"The  rent  would  not  be  worth  more  than  a  dollar  a 
month,"  said  Mr. ,  pointing  with  his  cane  to  the  dilap 
idated  walls.  "  Mr.  Moodie  has  offered  you  a  year's  rent  for 
the  place.1' 


100  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  It  may  not  be  worth  a  cent,"  returned  the  woman ;  "  for 
it  will  give  every  body  the  rheumatism  that  stays  a  week  in 
it — but  it  is  worth  that  to  me,  and  more  nor  double  that  just 
now  to  him.  But  I  will  not  be  hard  with  him,"  continued 
she,  rocking  herself  to  and  fro.  "  Say  twenty  dollars,  and  I 
will  turn  out  on  Monday." 

"  I  dare  say  you  will,"  said  Mr. ,  "  and  who  do  you 

think  would  be  fool  enough  to  give  you  such  an  exorbitant 
sum  for  a  ruined  old  shed  like  this  ?" 

"  Mind  your  own  business,  and  make  your  own  bargains," 
returned  the  old  woman,  tartly.  "  The  devil  himself  could 
not  deal  with  you,  for  I  guess  he  would  have  the  worst  of  it. 
What  do  you  say,  sir1?"  and  she  fixed  her  keen  eyes  upon  my 
husband,  as  if  she  would  read  his  thoughts.  "  Will  you  agree 
to  my  price1?" 

"  It  is  a  very  high  one,  Mrs.  H ;  but  as  I  cannot  help 

myself,  and  you  t^ke  advantage  of  that,  I  suppose  I  must 
give  it." 

"  "Tis  a  bargain,"  cried  the  old  crone,  holding  out  her 
hard,  bony  hand.  "  Come,  cash  down !" 

"  Not  until  you  give  me  possession  on  Monday  next ;  or 
you  might  serve  me  as  your  son  has  done." 

"  Ha !"  said  the  old  woman,  laughing  and  rubbing  her 
hands  together ;  "  you  begin  to  see  daylight,  do  you  1  In  a 

few  months,  with  the  help  of  him,"  pointing  to  Mr. , 

"  you  will  be  able  to  go  alone ;  but  have  a  care  of  your 
teacher,  for  it's  no  good  that  you  will  learn  from  him.  But 
will  you  really  stand  to  your  word,  mister  ]"  she  added,  in  a 
coaxing  tone,  "  if  I  go  out  on  Monday  1" 

"  To  be  sure  I  will ;  I  never  break  my  word." 

"  Well,  I  guess  you  are  not  so  clever  as  our  people,  for 
they  only  keep  it  as  long  as  it  suits  them.  You  have  an  hon 
est  look  j  I  will  trust  you  ;  but  I  will  not  trust  him,"  nodding 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  101 

to  Mr. ,  "  he  can  buy  and  sell  his  word  as  fast  as  a  horse 

can  trot.  So  on  Monday  I  will  turn  out  my  traps.  I  have 
lived  here  six-and-thirty  years ;  'tis  a  pretty  place,  and  it 
vexes  me  to  leave  it,"  continued  the  poor  creature,  as  a  touch 
of  natural  feeling  softened  and  agitated  her  world-hardened 
heart.  "  There  is  not  an  acre  in  cultivation  but  I  helped  to 
clear  it,  nor  a  tree  in  yonder  orchard  but  I  held  it  while  my 
poor  man,  who  is  dead  and  gone,  planted  it;  and  I  have 
watched  the  trees  bud  from  year  to  year,  until  their  boughs 
overshadowed  the  hut,  where  all  my  children,  but  Joe,  were 
born.  Yes,  I  came  here  young,  and  in  iny  prime ;  and  I  must 
leave  it  in  age  and  poverty.  My  children  and  husband  are 
dead,  and  their  bones  rest  beneath  the  turf  in  the  burying- 
ground  on  the  side  of  the  hill.  Of  all  that  once  gathered  about 
my  knees,  Joe  and  his  young  ones  alone  remain.  And  it  is 
hard,  very  hard,  that  I  must  leave  their  graves  to  be  turned 
by  the  plough  of  a  stranger." 

I  felt  for  the  desolate  old  creature — the  tears  rushed  to 
my  eyes  ;  but  there  was  no  moisture  in  hers.  No  rain  from 
the  heart  could  filter  through  that  iron  soil. 

"  Be  assured,  Mrs.  H ,"  said  Moodie,  "  that  the  dead 

will  be  held  sacred;  the  place  will  never  be  disturbed  by 
me." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  it  is  not  long  that  you  will  remain 
here.  I  have  seen  a  good  deal  in  my  time  ;  but  I  never  saw 
a  gentleman  from  the  old  country  make  a  good  Canadian 
farmer.  The  work  is  rough  and  hard,  and  they  get  out  of  hu 
mour  with  it,  and  leave  it  to  their  hired  helps,  and  then  all 
goes  wrong.  They  are  cheated  on  all  sides,  and  in  despair 
take  to  the  whiskey  bottle,  and  that  fixes  them.  I  tell  you 
what  it  is,  mister — I  give  you  just  three  years  to  spend  your 
money  and  ruin  yourself ;  and  then  you  will  become  a  con 
firmed  drunkard,  like  the  rest." 


102  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

The  first  part  of  her  prophecy  was  only  too  true.  Thank 
God  !  the  last  has  never  been  fulfilled,  and  never  can  be. 

Perceiving  that  the  old  woman  was  not  a  little  elated  with 
her  bargain,  Mr. urged  upon  her  the  propriety  of  bar 
ring  the  dower.  At  first,  she  was  outrageous,  and  very  abu 
sive,  and  rejected  all  his  proposals  with  contempt ;  vowing 
that  she  would  meet  him  in  a  certain  place  below,  before  she 
would  sign  away  her  right  to  the  property. 

"  Listen  to  reason,  Mrs.  H ,"  said  the  land  speculator. 

"  If  you  will  sign  the  papers  before  the  proper  authorities,  the 

next  time  your  son  drives  you  to  C ,  I  will  give  you  a  silk 

gown." 

"  Pshaw !  Buy  a  shroud  for  yourself ;  you  will  need  it 
before  I  want  a  silk  gown,"  was  the  ungracious  reply. 

"  Consider,  woman ;  a  black  silk  of  the  best  quality." 

"To  mourn  in  for  my  sins,  or  for  the  loss  of  the 
farm?" 

"  Twelve  yards,"  continued  Mr. ,  without  noticing  her 

rejoinder,  "  at  a  dollar  a  yard.  Think  what  a  nice  church- 
going  gown  it  will  make." 

"  To  the  devil  with  you  !     I  never  go  to  church." 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  said  Mr. ,  winking  to  us.  "  Well, 

my  dear  madam,  what  will  satisfy  you  ?" 

"I'll  do  it  for  twenty  dollars,"  returned  the  old  woman, 
rocking  herself  to  and  fro  in  her  chair ;  her  eyes  twinkling, 
and  her  hands  moving  convulsively,  as  if  she  already  grasped 
the  money  so  dear  to  her  soul. 

"  Agreed,"  said  the  land  speculator.  "  When  will  you  be 
in  town  T 

"  On  Tuesday,  if  I  be- alive.  But,  remember,  I'll  not  sign 
till  I  have  my  hand  on  the  money." 

"  Never  fear,"  said  Mr. ,  as  we  quitted  the  house ; 

then,  turning  to  me,  he  added,  with  a  peculiar  smile,  "  That's 


UNCLE  JOE  AXD  HIS  FAMILT.  10S 

a  devilish  smart  woman.  She  would  have  made  a  clever 
lawyer." 

Monday  came,  and  with  it  all  the  bustle  of  moving,  and,  as 
is  generally  the  case  on  such  occasions,  it  turned  out  a  very 
wet  day.  I  left  Old  Satan's  hut  without  regret,  glad,  at  any 
rate,  to  be  in  a  place  of  my  own,  however  humble.  Our  new 
habitation,  though  small,  had  a  decided  advantage  over  the 
one  we  were  leaving.  It  stood  on  a  gentle  slope  ;  and  a  nar 
row  but  lovely  stream,  full  of  pretty  speckled  trout,  ran 
murmuring  under  the  little  window ;  the  house,  also,  was 
surrounded  by  fine  fruit-trees. 

I  know  not  how  it  was,  but  the  sound  of  that  tinkling 
brook,  for  ever  rolling  by.  filled  my  heart  with  a  strange 
melancholy,  which  for  many  nights  deprived  me  of  rest.  I 
loved  it,  too.  The  voice  of  waters,  in  the  stillness  of  night, 
always  had  an  extraordinary  effect  upon  my  mind.  Their 
ceaseless  motion  and  perpetual  sound  convey  to  me  the  idea 
of  life — eternal  life ;  and  looking  upon  them,  glancing  and 
flashing  on,  now  in  sunshine,  now  in  shade,  now  hoarsely 
chiding  with  the  opposing  rock,  now  leaping  triumphantly 
over  it, — creates  within  me  a  feeling  of  mysterious  awe  of 
which  I  never  could  wholly  divest  myself. 

A  portion  of  my  own  spirit  seemed  to  pass  into  that  little 
stream.  In  its  deep  wailings  and  fretful  sighs,  I  fancied  my 
self  lamenting  for  the  land  I  had  left  for  ever ;  and  its  restless 
and  impetuous  rushings  against  the  stones  which  choked  its 
passage,  were  mournful  types  of  my  own  mental  struggles 
against  the  strange  destiny  which  hemmed  me  in.  Through 
the  day  the  stream  still  moaned  and  travelled  on, — but,  en 
gaged  in  my  novel  and  distasteful  occupations,  I  heard  it  not ; 
but  whenever  my  winged  thoughts  flew  homeward,  then  the 
voice  of  the  brook  spoke  deeply  and  sadly  to  my  heart,  and 
my  tears  flowed  unchecked  to  its  plaintive  and  harmonious 
music. 


104  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

In  a  few  hours  I  had  my  new  abode  more  comfortably 
arranged  than  the  old  one,  although  its  dimensions  were  much 
smaller.  The  location  was  beautiful,  and  I  was  greatly  con 
soled  by  this  circumstance.  The  aspect  of  Nature  ever  did, 
and  I  hope  ever  will  continue, 

"  To  slioot  marvellous  strength  into  my  heart." 

As  long  as  we  remain  true  to  the  Divine  Mother,  so  long  will 
she  remain  faithful  to  her  suffering  children. 

At  that  period  my  love  for  Canada  was  a  feeling  very 
nearly  allied  to  that  which  the  condemned  criminal  entertains 
for  his  cell — his  only  hope  of  escape  being  through  the  portals 
of  the  grave. 

The  fall  rains  had  commenced.  In  a  few  days  the  cold 
wintry  showers  swept  all  the  gorgeous  crimson  from  the 
trees ;  and  a  bleak  and  desolate  waste  presented  itself  to  the 
shuddering  spectator.  But,  in  spite  of  wind  and  rain,  my 
little  tenement  was  never  free  from  the  intrusion  of  Uncle 
Joe's  wife  and  children.  Their  house  stood  about  a  stone's- 
throw  from  the  hut  we  occupied,  in  the  same  meadow,  and 
they  seemed  to  look  upon  it  still  as  their  own,  although  we 
had  literally  paid  for  it  twice  over.  Fine  strapping  girls  they 
were,  from  five  years  old  to  fourteen,  but  rude  and  unnur 
tured  as  so  many  bears.  They  would  come  in  without  the 
least  ceremony,  and,  young  as  they  were,  ask  me  a  thousand 
impertinent  questions  ;  and  when  I  civilly  requested  them  to 
leave  the  room,  they  would  range  themselves  upon  the  door 
step,  watching  my  motions,  with  their  black  eyes  gleaming 
upon  me  through  their  tangled,  uncombed  locks.  Their  com 
pany  was  a  great  annoyance,  for  it  obliged  me  to  put  a  painful 
restraint  upon  the  thoughtfulness  in  which  it  was  so  delightful 
to  me  to  indulge.  Their  visits  were  not  visits  of  love,  but  of 
mere  idle  curiosity,  not  unmingled  with  malicious  hatred. 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  105 

The  simplicity,  the  fond,  confiding  faith  of  childhood,  is 
unknown  in  Canada.  There  are  no  children  here.  The  boy 
is  a  miniature  man — knowing,  keen,  and  wide  awake ;  as  able  to 
drive  a  bargain  and  take  an  advantage  of  his  juvenile  compan 
ion  as  the  grown-up,  world-hardened  man.  The  girl,  a  gossip- 
ping  flirt,  full  of  vanity  and  affectation,  with  a  premature 
love  of  finery,  and  an  acute  perception  of  the  advantages  to 
be  derived  from  wealth,  and  from  keeping  up  a  certain  ap 
pearance  in  the  world. 

The  flowers,  the  green  grass,  the  glorious  sunshine,  the 
birds  of  the  air,  and  the  young  lambs  gambolling  down  the 
verdant  slopes,  which  fill  the  heart  of  a  British  child  with  a 
fond  ecstacy,  bathing  the  young  spirit  in  Elysium,  would  float 
unnoticed  before  the  vision  of  a  Canadian  child ;  while  the 
sight  of  a  dollar,  or  a  new  dress,  or  a  gay  bonnet,  would 
swell  its  proud  bosom  with  self-importance  and  delight.  The 
glorious  blush  of  modest  diffidence,  the  tear  of  gentle  sympa 
thy,  are  so  rare  on  the  cheek,  or  in  the  eye  of  the  young,  that 
their  appearance  creates  a  feeling  of  surprise.  Such  perfect 
self-reliance  in  beings  so  new  to  the  world  is  painful  to  a 
thinking  mind.  It  betrays  a  great  want  of  sensibility  and 
mental  culture,  and  a  melancholy  knowledge  of  the  arts  of 
life. 

For  a  week  I  was  alone,  my  good  Scotch  girl  having  left 
me  to  visit  her  father.  Some  small  baby-articles  were  needed 
to  be  washed,  and  after  making  a  great  preparation,  I  deter 
mined  to  try  my  unskilled  hand  upon  the  operation.  The  fact 
is,  I  knew  nothing  about  the  task  I  had  imposed  upon  myself, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  rubbed  the  skin  off  my  wrists,  without 
getting  the  clothes  clean. 

The  door  was  open,  as  it  generally  was,  even  during  the 
coldest  winter  days,  in  order  to  let  in  more  light,  and  let  out 
the  smoke,  which  otherwise  would  have  enveloped  us  like  a 

5* 


106  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

cloud.  I  was  so  busy  that  I  did  not  perceive  that  I  was 
watched  by  the  cold,  heavy,  dark  eyes  of  Mrs.  Joe,  who, 
with  a  sneering  laugh,  exclaimed, 

"  Well,  thank  God !  I  am  glad  to  see  you  brought  to 
work  at  last.  I  hope  you  may  have  to  work  as  hard  as  I 
have.  I  don't  see,  not  I,  why  you,  who  are  no  better  than 
me,  should  sit  still  all  day,  like  a  lady  !" 

"  Mrs.  H ,"  said  I,  not  a  little  annoyed  at  her  presence, 

"  what  concern  is  it  of  yours  whether  I  work  or  sit  still  1  I 
never  interfere  with  you.  If  you  took  it  into  your  head  to 
lie  in  bed  all  day,  I  should  never  trouble  myself  about  it." 

"  Ah,  I  guess  you  don't  look  upon  us  as  fellow-critters,  you 
are  so  proud  and  grand.  I  s'pose  you  Britishers  are  not  made 
of  flesh  and  blood  like  us.  You  don't  choose  to  sit  down  at 
meat  with  your  helps.  Now,  I  calculate,  we  think  them  a 
great  deal  better  nor  you." 

"  Of  course,"  said  I,  "  they  are  more  suited  to  you  than  we 
are ;  they  are  uneducated,  and  so  are  you.  This  is  no  fault 
in  either  ;  but  it  might  teach  you  to  pay  a  little  more  respect 
to  those  who  are  possessed  of  superior  advantages.  But,  Mrs. 

H ,  my  helps,  as  you  call  them,  are  civil  and  obliging, 

and  never  make  unprovoked  and  malicious  speeches.  If  they 
could  so  far  forget  themselves,  I  should  order  them  to  leave 
the  house." 

"  Oh,  I  see  what  you  are  up  to,"  replied  the  insolent  dame ; 
"  you  mean  to  say  that  if  I  were  your  help  you  would  turn 
me  out  of  your  house ;  but  I'm  a  free-born  American,  and  I 
won't  go  at  your  bidding.  Don't  think  I  come  here  out  of 
regard  to  you.  No,  I  hate  you  all ;  and  I  rejoice  to  see  you 
at  the  wash-tub,  and  I  wish  that  you  may  be  brought  down 
upon  your  knees  to  scrub  the  floors." 

This  speech  only  caused  a  smile,  and  yet  I  felt  hurt  and 
astonished  that  a  woman  whom  I  had  never  done  any  thing 


UNCLE  JOE  AXD  HIS  FAMILY.  107 

to  offend  should  be  so  gratuitously  spiteful.  In  the  evening 
she  sent  two  of  her  brood  over  to  borrow  my  "  long  iron,"  aa 
she  called  an  Italian  iron.  I  was  just  getting  my  baby  to 
sleep,  sitting  upon  a  low  stool  by  the  fire.  I  pointed  to  the 
iron  upon  the  shelf,  and  told  the  girl  to  take  it.  She  did  so, 
but  stood  beside  me,  holding  it  carelessly  in  her  hand,  and 
staring  at  the  baby,  who  had  just  sunk  to  sleep  upon  mv 
lap. 

The  next  moment  the  heavy  iron  fell  from  her  relaxed 
grasp,  giving  me  a  severe  blow  upon  my  knee  and  foot :  and 
glanced  so  near  the  child's  head  that  it  drew  from  me  a  cry 
of  terror. 

"  I  guess  that  was  nigh  braining  the  child,"  quoth  Miss 
Amanda,  with  the  greatest  coolness,  and  without  making  the 
least  apology.  Muster  Amnion  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  "  If 
it  had,  Mandy,  I  guess  we'd  have  cotched  it."  Provoked  at 
their  insolence,  I  told  them  to  leave  the  house.  The  tears 
were  in  my  eyes,  for  I  felt  certain  that  had  they  injured  the 
child,  it  would  not  have  caused  them  the  least  regret. 

The  next  day,  as  we  were  standing  at  the  door,  my  hus 
band  was  greatly  amused  by  seeing  fat  Uncle  Joe  chasing  the 
rebellious  Ammon  over  the  meadow  in  front  of  the  house. 
Joe  was  out  of  breath,  panting  and  puffing  like  a  small  steam- 
engine,  and  his  face  flushed  to  deep  red  with  excitement  and 

passion.     "  You young  scoundrel !"  he  cried,  half  choked 

with  fury,  "  if  I  catch  up  to  you,  I'll  take  the  skin  off  you  !" 

«  You old  scoundrel,  you  may  have  my  skin  if  you 

can  get  at  me,"  retorted  the  precious  child,  as  he  jumped  up 
upon  the  top  of  the  high  fence,  and  doubled  his  fist  in  a  men 
acing  manner  at  his  father. 

"  That  boy  is  growing  too  bad,"  said  Uncle  Joe,  coming  up 
to  us  out  of  breath,  the  perspiration  streaming  down  his  face, 
''  It  is  time  to  break  him  in,  or  he'll  get  the  master  of  us  all." 


108  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  You  should  have  begun  that  before,"  said  Moodie.  "  He 
seems  a  hopeful  pupil." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  a  little  swearing  is  manly,"  returned  the 
father ;  "  I  swear  myself,  I  know,  and  as  the  old  cock  crows, 
so  crows  the  young  one.  It  is  not  his  swearing  that  I  care  a 
pin  for,  but  he  will  not  do  a  thing  I  tell  him  to." 

"  Swearing  is  a  dreadful  vice,"  said  I,  "  and,  wicked  as  it  is 
In  the  mouth  of  a  grown-up  person,  it  is  perfectly  shocking  in 
a  child  ;  it  painfully  tells  he  has  been  brought  up  without  the 
fear  of  God." 

"  Pooh !  pooh !  that's  all  cant ;  there  is  no  harm  in  a  few 
oaths,  and  I  cannot  drive  oxen  and  horses  without  swearing. 
I  dare  say  that  you  can  swear  too  when  you  are  riled,  but  you 
are  too  cunning  to  let  us  hear  you." 

I  could  not  help  laughing  outright  at  this  supposition,  but 
replied  very  quietly,  "  Those  who  practise  such  iniquities  never 
take  any  pains  to  conceal  them.  The  concealment  would  in 
fer  a  species  of  shame ;  and  when  people  are  conscious  of 
their  guilt,  they  are  in  the  road  to  improvement."  The  man 
walked  whistling  away,  and  the  wicked  child  returned  unpun 
ished  to  his  home. 

The  next  minute  the  old  woman  came  in.  "  I  guess  you 
can  give  me  a  piece  of  silk  for  a  hood,"  said  she, "  the  weather 
is  growing  considerable  cold." 

"  Surely  it  cannot  well  be  colder  than  it  is  at  present," 
said  I,  giving  her  the  rocking-chair  by  the  fire. 

"  Wait  a  while  ;  you  know  nothing  of  a  Canadian  winter. 
This  is  only  November ;  after  the  Christmas  thaw,  you'll 
know  something  about  cold.  It  is  seven-and-thirty  years 
ago  since  I  and  my  man  left  the  U-ni-ted  States.  It  was 
called  the  year  of  the  great  winter.  I  tell  you,  woman, 
that  the  snow  lay  so  deep  on  the  earth  that  it  blocked  up  all 
the  roads,  and  we  could  drive  a  sleigh  whither  we  pleased, 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  109 

right  over  the  snake  fences.  All  the  cleared  land  was  one 
wide  white  level  plain ;  it  was  a  year  of  scarcity,  and  we 
were  half  starved ;  but  the  severe  cold  was  far  worse  nor  the 
want  of  provisions.  A  long  and  bitter  journey  we  had  of 
it ;  but  I  was  young  then,  and  pretty  well  used  to  trouble  and 
fatigue;  my  man  stuck  to  the  British  government.  More 
fool  he !  I  was  an  American  born,  and  my  heart  was  with 
the  true  cause.  But  his  father  was  English,  and,  says  he, 
1  I'll  live  and  die  under  their  flag.'  So  he  dragged  me  from 
my  comfortable  fireside  to  seek  a  home  in  the  far  Canadian 
wilderness.  Trouble  !  I  guess  you  think  you  have  your 
troubles ;  but  what  are  they  to  mine  7"  She  paused,  took 
a  pinch  of  snuff,  offered  me  the  box,  sighed  painfully,  pushed 
the  red  handkerchief  from  her  high,  narrow,  wrinkled  brow, 
and  continued: — "Joe  was  a  baby  then,  and  I  had  another 
helpless  critter  in  my  lap — an  adopted  child.  My  sister  had 
died  from  it,  and  I  was  nursing  it  at  the  same  breast  with 
my  boy.  Well,  we  had  to  perform  a  journey  of  four  hundred 
miles  in  an  ox-cart,  which  carried,  besides  me  and  the  chil 
dren,  all  our  household  stuff.  Our  way  lay  chiefly  through 
the  forest,  and  we  made  but  slow  progress.  Oh !  what  a 
bitter  cold  night  it  was  when  we  reached  the  swampy  woods 
where  the  city  of  Eochester  now  stands.  The  oxen  were 
covered  with  icicles,  and  their  breath  sent  up  clouds  of 
steam.  *  Nathan,'  says  I  to  my  man,  {  you  must  stop  and 
kindle  a  fire;  I  am  dead  with  cold,  and  I  fear  the  babes 
will  be  frozen.'  We  began  looking  about  for  a  good  spot 
to  camp  in,  when  I  spied  a  light  through  the  trees.  It  was 
a  lone  shanty,  occupied  by  two  French  lumberers.  The  men 
were  kind;  they  rubbed  our  frozen  limbs  with  snow,  and 
shared  with  us  their  supper  and  buffalo  skins.  On  that  very 
spot  where  we  camped  that  night,  where  we  heard  nothing 
but  the  wind  soughing  amongst  the  trees,  and  the  rushing 


110  XOUGHIXG  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

of  the  river,  now  stands  the  great  city  of  Rochester.  I 
went  there  two  years  ago,  to  the  funeral  of  a  brother.  It 
seemed  to  me  like  a  dream.  Where  we  foddered  our  beasts 
by  the  shanty  fire,  now  stands  the  largest  hotel  in  the  city ; 
and  my  husband  left  this  fine  growing  country  to  starve  here." 

I  was  so  much  interested  in  the  old  woman's  narrative — 
for  she  was  really  possessed  of  no  ordinary  capacity,  and 
though  rude  and  uneducated  might  have  been  a  very  superior 
person  under  different  circumstances — that  I  rummaged  among 
my  stores,  and  soon  found  a  piece  of  black  silk,  which  I  gave 
her  for  the  hood  she  required. 

The  old  woman  examined  it  carefully  over,  smiled  to  her 
self,  but,  like  all  her  people,  was  too  proud  to  return  a  word 
of  thanks.  One  gift  to  the  family  always  involved  another. 

"  Have  you  any  cotton-batting,  or  black  sewing-silk,  to  give 
me,  to  quilt  it  with  f ' 

"  No." 

"  Humph,"  returned  the  old  dame,  in  a  tone  which  seemed 
to  contradict  my  assertion.  She  then  seated  herself  in  her 
chair,  and,  after  shaking  her  foot  awhile,  and  fixing  her  pierc 
ing  eyes  upon  me  for  some  minutes,  she  commenced  the  fol 
lowing  list  of  interrogatories : — 

"  Is  your  father  alivel" 

"  No ;  he  died  many  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  young  girl." 

"  Is  your  mother  alive  ?" 

"Yes." 

"What  is  her  name?"  ,  I  satisfied  her  on  this  point. 

"  Did  she  ever  marry  again  f 

"  She  might  have  done  so,  but  she  loved  her  husband  too 
well,  and  preferred  living  single." 

"  Humph  !  We  have  no  such  notions  here.  WThat  was 
your  father  ?" 

"A  gentleman,  who  lived  upon  his  own  estate." 


UNCLE  JOE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  \\\ 

«  Bid  he  die  rich  f 

"He  lost  the  greatest  part  of  his  property  from  being 
surety  for  another." 

"  That's  a  foolish  business.  My  man  burnt  his  fingers  with 
that.  And  what  brought  you  out  to  this  poor  country — you, 
who  are  no  more  fit  for  it  than  I  am  to  be  a  fine  lady  f 

"  The  promise  of  a  large  grant  of  land,  and  the  false  state 
ments  we  heard  regarding  it." 

"  Do  you  like  the  country  ?" 

"  No  ;  and  I  fear  I  never  shall." 

"  I  thought  not ;  for  the  drop  is  always  on  your  cheek,  the 
children  tell  me ;  and  those  young  ones  have  keen  eyes. 
Now,  take  my  advice :  return  while  your  money  lasts ;  the 
longer  you  remain  in  Canada  the  less  you  will  like  it ;  and 
when  your  money  is  all  spent,  you  will  be  like  a  bird  in  a 
cage;  you  may  beat  your  wings  against  the  bars,  but  you 
can't  get  out."  There  was  a  long  pause.  I  hoped  that  my 
guest  had  sufficiently  gratified  her  curiosity,  when  she  again 
commenced : — 

"  How  do  you  get  your  money  ?  Do  you  draw  it  from 
the  old  country,  or  have  you  it  with  you  in  cash  1" 

Provoked  by  her  pertinacity,  and  seeing  no  end  to  her 

cross-questioning,  I  replied,  very  impatiently,  "  Mrs.  H , 

is  it  the  custom  in  your  country  to  catechise  strangers  when 
ever  you  meet  with  them  ]" 

"  What  do  you  mean  1"  said  she,  colouring,  I  believe,  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life. 

"  I  mean,"  quoth  I,  "  an  evil  habit  of  asking  impertinent 
questions." 

The  old  woman  got  up,  and  left  the  house  without  speaking 
another  word. 


112  RO UGHING  IT  IN  THE  B USH. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

JOHN    MONAGHAN. 

"  Dear  mother  Nature !  on  thy  ample  breast 
Hast  thou  not  room  for  thy  neglected  son? 
A  stern  necessity  has  driven  him  forth 
Alone  and  friendless.    He  has  naught  but  thee, 
And  the  strong  hand  and  stronger  heart  thou  gavest, 
To  win  with  patient  toil  his  daily  bread." 

A  FEW  days  after  the  old  woman's  visit  to  the  cottage,  our 
•£*-  servant  James  absented  himself  for  a  week,  without  ask 
ing  leave,  or  giving  any  intimation  of  his  intention.  He  had 
under  his  care  a  fine  pair  of  horses,  a  yoke  of  oxen,  three 
cows,  and  a  numerous  family  of  pigs,  besides  having  to  chop 
all  the  firewood  required  for  our  use.  His  unexpected  de 
parture  caused  no  small  trouble  in  the  family ;  and  when  the 
truant  at  last  made  his  appearance,  Moodie  discharged  him 
altogether. 

The  winter  had  now  fairly  set  in — the  iron  winter  of  1833. 
The  snow  was  unusually  deep,  and  it  being  our  first  winter  in 
Canada,  and  passed  in  such  a  miserable  dwelling,  we  felt  it  very 
severely.  In  spite  of  all  my  boasted  fortitude — and  I  think 
my  powers  of  endurance  have  been  tried  to  the  uttermost  since 
rny  sojourn  in  this  country — the  rigour  of  the  climate  subdued 
my  proud,  independent  English  spirit,  and  I  actually  shamed 
my  womanhood  and  cried  with  the  cold.  Yes,  I  ought  to 
blush  at  evincing  such  unpardonable  weakness;  but  I  was 
foolish  and  inexperienced,  and  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke. 


JOHN  NONA  GHAN.  113 

My  husband  did  not  much  relish  performing  the  menial 
duties  of  a  servant  in  such  weather,  but  he  did  not  com 
plain,  and  in  the  mean  time  commenced  an  active  inquiry  for 
a  man  to  supply  the  place  of  the  one  he  had  lost ;  but  at  that 
season  of  the  year  no  one  was  to  be  had. 

It  was  a  bitter,  freezing  night.  A  sharp  wind  howled  with 
out,  and  drove  the  fine  snow  through  the  chinks  in  the  door, 
almost  to  the  hearth-stone,  on  which  two  immense  blocks  of 
maple  shed  forth  a  cheering  glow,  brightening  the  narrow 
window-panes,  and  making  the  blackened  rafters  ruddy  with 
the  heart-invigorating  blaze.  The  toils  of  the  day  were  over, 
the  supper-things  cleared  away,  and  the  door  closed  for  the 
night.  Moodie  had  taken  up  his  flute,  the  sweet  companion 
of  happier  days,  at  the  earnest  request  of  our  home-sick  Scotch 
servant-girl,  to  cheer  her  drooping  spirits  by  playing  some  of 
the  touching  national  airs  of  the  glorious  mountain  land,  the 
land  of  chivalry  and  song,  the  heroic  North.  Before  retiring 
to  rest,  Bell,  who  had  an  exquisite  ear  for  music,  kept  time 
with  foot  and  hand,  while  large  tears  gathered  in  her  soft  blue 
eyes. 

"  Ay,  'tis  bonnie  thae  songs  ;  but  they  mak'  me  greet,  an' 
my  puir  heart  is  sair,  sair  when  I  think  on  the  bonnie  braes 
and  the  days  o'  lang  syne." 

Poor  Bell !  Her  heart  was  among  the  hills,  and  mine  had 
wandered  far,  far  away  to  the  green  groves  and  meadows  of 
my  own  fair  land.  The  music  and  our  reveries  were  alike 
abruptly  banished  by  a  sharp  blow  upon  the  door.  Bell  rose 
and  opened  it,  when  a  strange,  wild-looking  lad,  barefooted, 
and  with  no  other  covering  to  his  head  than  the  thick,  matted 
locks  of  raven  blackness,  that  hung  like  a  cloud  over  his 
swarthy,  sunburnt  visage,  burst  into  the  room. 

"  Guidness  defend  us !  Wha  ha'e  we  here  1"  screamed 
Bell,  retreating  into  a  corner.  "  The  puir  callant's  no  cannie." 


114  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

My  husband  turned  hastily  round  to  meet  the  intruder, 
and  I  raised  the  candle  from  the  table  the  better  to  distinguish 
his  face ;  while  Bell,  from  her  hiding-place,  regarded  him  with 
unequivocal  glances  of  fear  and  mistrust,  waving  her  hands  to 
me,  and  pointing  significantly  to  open  the  door,  as  if  silently 
beseeching  me  to  tell  her  master  to  turn  him  out. 

"  Shut  the  door,  man,"  said  Moodie,  whose  long  scrutiny  of 
the  strange  being  before  us  seemed  upon  the  whole  satisfac 
tory  ;  "  we  shall  be  frozen." 

"  Thin,  faith,  sir,  that's  what  I  am,"  said  the  lad  in  a  rich 
brogue,  which  told,  without  asking,  the  country  to  which  he 
belonged.  Then  stretching  his  bare  hands  to  the  fire,  he  con 
tinued,  "  By  Jove,  sir,  I  was  never  so  near  gone  in  my  life  !" 

"  Where  do  you  come  from,  and  what  is  your  business 
here  ?  You  must  be  aware  that  this  is  a  very  late  hour  to 
take  a  house  by  storm  in  this  way." 

"Thrue  for  you,  sir.  But  necessity  knows  no  law ;  and  the 
condition  you  see  me  in  must  plade  for  me.  First,  thin,  sir,  I 

come  from  the  township  of  D ,  and  want  a  masther  :  and 

next  to  that,  bedad  !  I  want  something  to  ate.  As  I'm  alive, 
and  'tis  a  thousand  pities  that  I'm  alive  at  all  at  all,  for  sure 
God  Almighty  never  made  sich  a  misfortunate  crather  afore 
nor  since ;  I  have  had  nothing  to  put  in  my  head  since  I  ran 

away  from  my  ould  masther,  Mr.  F ,  yesterday  at  noon. 

Money  I  have  none,  sir ;  the  divil  a  cent.  I  have  neither  a  shoe 
to  my  foot  nor  a  hat  to  my  head,  and  if  you  refuse  to  shelter 
me  the  night,  I  must  be  contint  to  perish  in  the  snow,  for  I 
have  not  a  frind  in  the  wide  wurld." 

The  lad  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  sobbed 
aloud. 

"  Bell,"  I  whispered  ;  "  go  to  the  cupboard  and  get  the 
poor  fellow  something  to  eat.  The  boy  is  starving." 

"  Dinna  heed  him,  mistress,  dinna  credit  his  lees.     He  is 


JOHN  NONA  GHAN.  115 

ane  o'  those  wicked  Papists  wha  ha'  just  stepped  in  to  rob  and 
murder  us." 

"  .Nonsense  !     Do  as  I  bid  you." 

"  I  winna  be  fashed  aboot  him.  An'  if  he  bides  here,  I'll 
e'en  flit  by  the  first  blink  o'  the  morn." 

"  Isabel,  for  shame  !  Is  this  acting  like  a  Christian,  or 
doing  as  you  would  be  done  by  ?" 

Bell  was  as  obstinate  as  a  rock,  not  only  refusing  to  put 
down  any  food  for  the  famished  lad,  but  reiterating  her  threat 
of  leaving  the  house  if  he  were  suffered  to  remain.  My  hus 
band,  no  longer  able  to  endure  her  selfish  and  absurd  conduct, 
got  angry  in  good  earnest,  and  told  her  that  she  might  please 
herself;  that  he  did  not  mean  to  ask  her  leave  as  to  whom  he 
received  into  his  house.  I,  for  my  part,  had  no  idea  that  she 
would  realize  her  threat.  She  was  an  excellent  servant,  clean, 
honest,  and  industrious,  and  loved  the  dear  baby. 

"  You  will  think  better  of  it  in  the  morning,"  said  I,  as  I 
rose  and  placed  before  the  lad  some  cold  beef  and  bread,  and 
a  bowl  of  milk,  to  which  the  runaway  did  ample  justice. 

"  Why  did  you  quit  your  master,  my  lad  1"    said  Moodie. 

"  Because  I  could  live  wid  him  no  longer.  You  see,  sir, 
I'm  a  poor  foundling  from  the  Belfast  Asylum,  shoved  out  by 
the  mother  that  bore  me,  upon  the  wide  world,  long  before  I 
knew  that  I  was  in  it.  As  I  was  too  young  to  spake  for 
myself  intirely,  she  put  me  into  a  basket,  wid  a  label  round 
my  neck,  to  tell  the  folks  that  my  name  was  John  Monaghan. 
This  was  all  I  ever  got  from  my  parents ;  and  who  or  what 
they  were,  I  never  knew,  not  I,  for  they  never  claimed  me  : 
bad  cess  to  them !  But  I've  no  doubt  it's  a  fine  illigant  gin- 
tl eman  he  was,  and  herself  a  handsome,  rich  young  lady,  who 
dare  not  own  me  for  fear  of  affronting  the  rich  jintry,  her  father 
and  mother.  Poor  folk,  sir,  are  never  ashamed  of  their  chil 
dren  ;  'tis  all  the  treasure  they  have,  sir ;  but  my  parents 


116  E  0  UGHING  IT  IN  THE  B  USE. 

•were  ashamed  of  me,  and  they  thrust  me  out  to  the  stranger 
and  the  hard  bread  of  depindence."  The  poor  lad  sighed 
deeply,  and  I  began  to  feel  a  growing  interest  in  his  sad 
history. 

"  Have  you  been  in  the  country  long?" 

"  Four  years,  madam.  You  know  my  masther,  Mr. 

F ;  he  brought  me  out  wid  him  as  his  apprentice,  and 

during  the  voyage  he  trated  me  well.  But  the  young  men, 
his  sons,  are  tyrants,  and  full  of  durty  pride ;  and  I  could  not 
agree  wid  them  at  all  at  all.  Yesterday,  I  forgot  to  take  the 
oxen  out  of  the  yoke,  and  Musther  William  tied  me  up  to  a 
stump,  and  bate  me  with  the  raw  hide.  Shure  the  marks  are 
on  my  showlthers  yet.  I  left  the  oxen  and  the  yoke,  and 
turned  my  back  upon  them  all,  for  the  hot  blood  was  bilin' 
widin  me ;  and  I  felt  that  if  I  stayed  it  would  be  him  that 
would  get  the  worst  of  it.  No  one  had  ever  cared  for  me 
since  I  was  born,  so  I  thought  it  was  high  time  to  take  care 
of  myself.  I  had  heard  your  name,  sir,  and  I  thought  I  would 
find  you  out ;  and  if  you  want  a  lad,  I  will  work  for  you  for 
my  kape,  and  a  few  dacent  clothes." 

A  bargain  was  soon  made.  Moodie  agreed  to  give  Mon- 
aghan  six  dollars  a  month,  wThich  he  thankfully  accepted  ;  and 
I  told  Bell  to  prepare  his  bed  in  a  corner  of  the  kitchen.  But 
mistress  Bell  thought  fit  to  rebel.  Having  been  guilty  of  one 
act  of  insubordination,  she  determined  to  be  consistent,  and 
throw  off  the  yoke  altogether.  She  declared  that  she  would 
do  no  such  thing ;  that  her  life  and  all  our  lives  were  in 
danger;  and  that  she  would  never  stay. another  night  under 
the  same  roof  with  that  Papist  vagabond. 

"  Papist !"  cried  the  indignant  lad,  his  dark  eyes  flashing 
fire,  "I'm  no  Papist,  but  a  Protestant  like  yourself;  and  I 
hope  a  deuced  dale  better  Christian.  You  take  me  for  a 
thief;  yet  shure  a  thief  would  have  waited  till  you  were  all 


JOHN  MONAGHAN.  117 

in  bed  and  asleep,  and  not  stepped  in  forenint  you  all  in  this 
fashion." 

There  was  both  truth  and  nature  in  the  lad's  argument ; 
but  Bell,  like  an  obstinate  woman  as  she  was,  chose  to  adhere 
to  her  own  opinion.  Nay,  she  even  carried  her  absurd  preju 
dices  so  far  that  she  brought  her  mattress  and  laid  it  down  on 
the  floor  in  my  room,  for  fear  that  the  Irish  vagabond  should 
murder  her  during  the  night.  By  the  break  of  day  she  was 
off;  leaving  me  for  the  rest  of  the  winter  without  a  servant. 
Monaghan  did  all  in  his  power  to  supply  her  place  ;  he  lighted 
the  fires,  swept  the  house,  milked  the  cows,  nursed  the  baby, 
and  often  cooked  the  dinner  for  me,  and  endeavoured  by  a 
thousand  little  attentions  to  show  the  gratitude  he  really  felt 
for  our  kindness.  To  little  Katie  he  attached  himself  in  an 
extraordinary  manner.  All  his  spare  time  he  spent  in  making 
little  sleighs  and  toys  for  her,  or  in  dragging  her  in  the  said 
sleighs  up  and  down  the  steep  hills  in  front  of  the  house, 
wrapped  up  in  a  blanket.  Of  a  night,  he  cooked  her  mess  of 
bread  and  milk,  as  she  sat  by  the  fire,  and  his  greatest  delight 
was  to  feed  her  himself.  After  this  operation  was  over,  he 
would  carry  her  round  the  floor  on  his  back,  and  sing  her 
songs  in  native  Irish.  Katie  always  greeted  his  return  from 
the  woods  with  a  scream  of  joy,  holding  up  her  fair  arms  to 
clasp  the  neck  of  her  dark  favourite. 

"  Now  the  Lord  love  you  for  a  darlint !"  he  would  cry,  as 
he  caught  her  to  his  heart.  "  Shure  you  are  the  only  one  of 
the  crathers  he  ever  made  who  can  love  poor  John  Monaghan. 
Brothers  and  sisters  I  have  none — I  stand  alone  in  the  wurld, 
and  your  bonny  wee  face  is  the  sweetest  thing  it  contains  for 
me.  Och,  jewil !  I  could  lay  down  my  life  for  you,  and  be 
proud  to  do  that  same." 

Though  careless  and  reckless  about  every  thing  that  con 
cerned  himself,  John  was  honest  and  true.  He  loved  us  for 


118  ROU6HIN&  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

the  compassion  we  had  shown  him;  and  he  would  have 
resented  any  injury  offered  to  our  persons  with  his  best 
blood. 

But  if  we  were  pleased  with  our  new  servant,  Uncle  Joe 
and  his  family  were  not,  and  they  commenced  a  series  of 
petty  persecutions  that  annoyed  him  greatly,  and  kindled  into 
a  flame  all  the  fiery  particles  of  his  irritable  nature. 

Moodie  had  purchased  several  tons  of  hay  of  a  neighbour 
ing  farmer,  for  the  use  of  his  cattle,  and  it  had  to  be  stowed 
into  the  same  barn  with  some  flax  and  straw  that  belonged  to 
Uncle  Joe.  Going  early  one  morning  to  fodder  the  cattle, 
John  found  Uncle  Joe  feeding  his  cows  with  his  master's  hay, 
and  as  it  had  diminished  greatly  in  a  very  short  time,  he  ac 
cused  him  in  no  measured  terms  of  being  the  thief.  The 
other  very  coolly  replied  that  he  had  taken  a  little  of  the  hay 
in  order  to  repay  himself  for  his  flax,  that  Monaghan  had 
stolen  for  the  oxen.  "Now  by  the  powers!"  quoth  John, 
kindling  into  wrath,  "  that  is  adding  a  big  lie  to  a  dirthy  petty 
larceny.  I  take  your  flax,  you  ould  villain !  Shurc  I  know 
that  flax  is  grown  to  make  linen  wid,  not  to  feed  oxen.  God 
Almighty  has  given  the  crathers  a  good  warm  coat  of  their 
own ;  they  require  neither  shifts  nor  shirts." 

"  I  saw  you  take  it,  you  ragged  Irish  vagabond,  with  my 
own  eyes." 

"  Thin  your  two  eyes  showed  you  a  wicked  illusion.  You 
had  better  shut  up  your  head,  or  I'll  give  you  that  for  an 
eye-salve  that  shall  make  you  see  thrue  for  the  time  to 
come." 

Relying  upon  his  great  size,  and  thinking  that  the  slight 
stripling,  who,  by  the  by,  was  all  bones  and  sinews,  was  no 
match  for  him,  Uncle  Joe  struck  Monaghan  over  the  head  with 
the  pitchfork.  In  a  moment  the  active  lad  was  upon  him  like 
a  wild-cat,  and  in  spite  of  the  difference  of  his  age  and  weight, 


JOHN  MONA  G HAN.  119 

gave  the  big  man  such  a  thorough  dressing  that  he  was  fain 
to  roar  aloud  for  mercy. 

44  Own  that  you  are  a  thief  and  a  liar,  or  I'll  murther  you !" 

"  I'll  own  to  any  thing  whilst  your  knee  is  pressing  me 
into  a  pancake.  Come  now — there's  a  good  lad — let  me  get 
up."  Monaghan  felt  irresolute,  but  after  extorting  from  Uncle 
Joe  a  promise  never  to  purloin  any  of  the  hay  again,  he  let 
him  rise. 

"  For  shure,"  he  said,  "  he  began  to  turn  so  black  in  the 
face,  I  thought  he'd  burst  intirely." 

The  fat  man  neither  forgot  nor  forgave  this  injury ;  and 
though  he  dared  not  attack  John  personally,  he  set  the  chil 
dren  to  insult  and  affront  him  upon  all  occasions.  The  boy 
was  without  socks,  and  I  sent  him  to  old  Mrs.  H ,  to  in 
quire  of  her  what  she  would  charge  for  knitting  him  two  pairs 
of  socks.  The  reply  was,  a  dollar.  This  was  agreed  to,  and 
dear  enough  they  were ;  but  the  weather  was  very  cold,  and 
the  lad  wras  barefooted,  and  there  was  no  other  alternative 
than  either  to  accept  her  offer,  or  for  him  to  go  without. 

In  a  few  days,  Monaghan  brought  them  home ;  but  I  found 
upon  inspecting  them  that  they  were  old  socks  new-footed. 
This  was  rather  too  glaring  a  cheat,  and  I  sent  the  lad  back 

with  them,  and  told  him  to  inform  Mrs.  H that  as  he  had 

agreed  to  give  the  price  for  new  socks,  he  expected  them  to 
be  new  altogether. 

The  avaricious  old  woman  did  not  deny  the  fact,  but  she 
fell  to  cursing  and  swearing  in  an  awful  manner,  and  wished 
so  much  evil  to  the  lad,  that,  with  the  superstitious  fear  so 
common  to  the  natives  of  his  country,  he  left  her  under  the 
impression  that  she  wras  gifted  with  the  evil  eye,  and  was  an 
"  owld  witch."  He  never  went  out  of  the  yard  with  the  wag 
on  and  horses,  but  she  rushed  to  the  door,  and  cursed  him 
for  a  bare-heeled  Irish  blackguard,  and  wished  that  he  might 


120  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

overturn  the  wagon,  kill  the  horses,  and  break  his  own 
worthless  neck. 

"  Ma'arm,"  said  John  to  me  one  day,  after  returning  from 

C with  the  team,  "  it  would  be  betther  for  me  to  lave 

the  masther  intirely ;  for  shure  if  I  do  not,  some  mischief 
will  befall  me  or  the  crathers.  That  wicked  owld  wretch  !  I 
cannot  thole  her  curses.  Shure  it's  in  purgatory  I  am  all  the 
while." 

"  Nonsense,  Monaghan !  you  are  not  a  Catholic,  and  need 
not  fear  purgatory.  The  next  time  the  old  woman  com 
mences  her  reprobate  conduct,  tell  her  to  hold  her  tongue,  and 
mind  her  own  business,  for  curses,  like  chickens,  come  home 
to  roost. 

The  boy  laughed  heartily  at  the  old  Turkish  proverb,  but 
did  not  reckon  much  on  its  efficacy  to  still  the  clamorous 
tongue  of  the  ill-natured  old  jade.  The  next  day  he  had  to 
pass  her  door  with  the  horses.  No  sooner  did  she  hear  the 
sound  of  the  wheels,  than  out  she  hobbled,  and  commenced 
her  usual  anathemas. 

"  Bad  luck  to  yer  croaking,  yer  ill-conditioned  owld  raven. 
It  is  not  me  you  are  desthroying  sure,  but  yer  own  poor  mise 
rable  sinful  sowl.  The  owld  one  has  the  grief  of  ye  already, 
for  '  curses,  like  chickens,  come  home  to  roost ;'  so  get  in  wid 
ye,  and  hatch  them  to  yerself  in  the  chimley  corner.  They'll 
all  be  roosting  wid  ye  by  and  by ;  and  a  nice  warm  nest 
they'll  make  for  you,  considering  the  brave  brood  that  belongs 
to  you." 

Whether  the  old  woman  was  as  superstitious  as  John,  I 
know  not ;  or  whether  she  was  impressed  with  the  moral 
truth  of  the  proverb — for,  as  I  have  before  stated,  she  was  no 
fool — is  difficult  to  tell ;  but  she  shrunk  back  into  her  den, 
and  never  attacked  the  lad  again. 

Poor  John  bore  no  malice  in  his  heart,  not  he  j  for,  in 


JOHN  MONAGHAN.  121 

spite  of  all  the  ill-natured  things  he  had  to  endure  from  Uncle 
Joe  and  his  family,  he  never  attempted  to  return  evil  for  evil. 
In  proof  of  this,  he  was  one  day  chopping  firewood  in  the  bush, 
at  some  distance  from  Joe,  who  was  engaged  in  the  same  em 
ployment  with  another  man.  A  tree  in  falling  caught  upon 
another,  which,  although  a  very  large  maple,  was  hollow  and 
very  much  decayed,  and  liable  to  be  blown  down  by  the  least 
shock  o£  the  wind.  The  tree  hung  directly  over  the  path  that 
Uncle  Joe  was  obliged  to  traverse  daily  with  his  team.  He 
looked  up,  and  perceived,  from  the  situation  it  occupied,  that 
it  was  necessary  for  his  own  safety  to  cut  it  down ;  but  he 
lacked  courage  to  undertake  so  hazardous  a  job,  which  might 
be  attended,  if  the  supporting  tree  gave  way  during  the  opera 
tion,  with  very  serious  consequences.  In  a  careless  tone,  he 
called  to  his  companion  to  cut  down  the  tree. 

"  Do  it  yourself,  H ,"  said  the  axe  man,  with  a  grin. 

"  My  wife  and  children  want  their  man  as  much  as  your 
Hannah  wants  you." 

"  I'll  not  put  axe  to  it,"  quoth  Joe.  Then,  making  signs 
to  his  comrade  to  hold  his  tongue,  he  shouted  to  Monaghan, 
"  Hollo,  boy !  you're  wanted  here  to  cut  down  this  tree. 
Don't  you  see  that  your  master's  cattle  might  be  killed  if 
they  should  happen  to  pass  under  it,  and  it  should  fall  upon 
them." 

"  Thrue  for  you,  Masther  Joe ;  but  your  own  cattle  would 
have  the  first  chance.  Why  should  I  risk  my  life  and  limbs, 
by  cutting  down  the  tree,  when  it  was  yerself  that  threw  it  so 
awkwardly  over  the  other  ?" 

"  Oh,  but  you  are  a  boy,  and  have  no  wife  and  children  to 
depend  upon  you  for  bread,"  said  Joe,  gravely.  "  We  are 
both  family  men.  Don't  you  see  that  'tis  your  duty  to  cut 
down  the  tree  ?" 

The  lad  swung  the  axe  to  and  fro  in  his  hand,  eyeing  Joe 
6 


122  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  SUSS. 

and  the  tree  alternately ;  but  the  natural  kind-heartedness  of 
the  creature,  and  his  reckless  courage,  overcame  all  idea  of 
self-preservation,  and  raising  aloft  his  slender  "but  muscular 
arm,  he  cried  out,  "  If  it's  a  life  that  must  be  sacrificed,  why 
not  mine  as  well  as  another  ?  Here  goes  I  and  the  Lord 
have  mercy  on  my  sinful  sowl  P' 

The  tree  fell,  and,  contrary  to  their  expectations,  without 
any  injury  to  John.  The  knowing  Yankee  burst  into^a  loud 
laugh.  "  Well,  if  you  arn't  a  tarnation  soft  fool,  I  never  saw 
one." 

"What  do-  yom  mane'?"  exclaimed  John,  Ms  dark  eyes 
flashing  fire.  "  If  'tis  to  insult  me  for  doing  that  which  neither 
of  you  dared  to  do,  you  had  better  not  thry  that  same.  You 
have  just  seen  the  strength  of  my  spirit.  You  had  better  not 
thry  again  the  strength  of  my  arm,  or,  maybe,  you  and  the 
tree  would  chance  to  share  the  same  fate ;"  and,  shouldering 
his  axe,  the  boy  strode  down  the  Mil,  to  get  scolded  by  me 
for  his  foolhardiness. 

The  first  week  in  March,  all  the  people  were  bissy  making 
maple  sugar.  "  Did  you  ever  taste  any  maple  sugar,  ma'arm  T* 
asked  Monaghan,  as  he  sat  feeding  Katie  one  evening  by  the 
fire. 

«Noy  John." 

"  Well,  then,  youVe  a  thrate  to  conae ;  and1  It's  myself  that 
will  make  Miss  Katie,  the  darliat,  an  illigant  lump  of  that 
same." 

Early  in  the  morning  John  was  up,  hard  at  work,  making 
troughs  for  the  sap.  By  noon  he  had  completed  a  dozen, 
which  he  showed  me  with  great  pride  of  heart.  I  felt  a  little 
curious  about  this  far-famed  maple  sugar,  and  asked  a  thou 
sand  questions  about  the  use  to  which  the  troughs  were  to 
be  applied ;  how  the  trees  were  to  be  tapped,  the  sugar  made, 
and  if  it  were  really  good  when  made  ? 


JOHN  MONA  GHAN.  1 23 

To  all  my  queries,  John  responded,  "  Och !  'tis  illigant.  It 
bates  all  the  sugar  that  ever  was  made  in  Jamaky.  But 
you'll  see  before  to-morrow  night." 

Moodie  was  away  at  P ,  and  the  prospect  of  the  maple 

sugar  relieved  the  dullness  occasioned  by  his  absence.  I 
reckoned  on  showing  him  a  piece  of  sugar  of  our  own  making 
when  he  came  home,  and  never  dreamt  of  the  possibility  of 
disappointment. 

John  tapped  his  trees  after  the  most  approved  fashion,  and 
set  his  troughs  to  catch  the  sap  ;  but  Miss  Amanda  and  Mas 
ter  Ammon  upset  them  as  fast  as  they  filled,  and  spilt  all 
the  sap.  With  great  difficulty,  Monaghan  saved  the  con 
tents  of  one  large  iron  pot.  This  he  brought  in  about  night 
fall,  and  made  up  a  roaring  fire,  in  order  to  boil  it  down 
into  sugar.  Hour  after  hour  passed  away,  and  the  sugar- 
maker  looked  as  hot  and  black  as  the  stoker  in  a  steam 
boat.  Many  times  I  peeped  into  the  large  pot,  but  the  sap 
never  seemed  to  diminish. 

"  This  is  a  tedious  piece  of  business,"  thought  I,  but  seeing 
the  lad  so  anxious,  I  said  nothing.  About  twelve  o'clock,  he 
asked  me,  very  mysteriously,  for  a  piece  of  pork  to  hang 
over  the  sugar. 

"  Pork !"  said  I,  looking  into  the  pot,  which  was  half 
fall  of  a  very  black-looking  liquid;  "what  do  you  want  with 
pork  ?" 

"  Shure,  an'  'tis  to  keep  the  sugar  from  burning." 

" But,  John,  I  see  no  sugar!" 

"  Och,  but  'tis  all  sugar,  only  'tis  molasses  jist  now.  See 
how  it  sticks  to  the  ladle.  Aha !  but  Miss  Katie  will  have  the 
fine  lumps  of  sugar  when  she  awakes  in  the  morning." 

"  I  grew  so  tired  and  sleepy  that  I  left  John  to  finish 
his  job,  went  to  bed,  and  soon  forgot  all  about  the  maple 
sugar.  At  breakfast  I  observed  a  small  plate  upon  the  table, 


124  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  TEE  BUSH. 

placed  in  a  very  conspicuous  manner  on  the  tea-tray,  the  bot 
tom  covered  with  a  hard,  black  substance,  which  very  much 
resembled  pitch.  "  What  is  that  dirty-looking  stuff,  John  V 

"  Shure  an'  'tis  the  maple  sugar." 

"  Can  people  eat  that  ?" 

"  By  dad,  an'  they  can  ;  only  thry  it,  ma'arm." 

"  Why,  'tis  so  hard,  I  cannot  cut  it." 

With  some  difficulty,  and  not  without  cutting  his  finger, 
John  broke  a  piece  off,  and  stuffed  it  in  the  baby's  mouth. 
The  poor  child  made  a  horrible  face,  and  rejected  it  as  if  it 
had  been  poison.  For  my  own  part,  I  never  tasted  any  thing 
more  nauseous.  It  tasted  like  a  compound  of  pork  grease 
and  tobacco  juice.  "  Well,  Monaghan,  if  this  be  maple  sugar, 
I  never  wish  to  taste  any  again." 

"  Och,  bad  luck  to  it !"  said  the  lad,  flinging  it  away,  plate 
and  all.  "  It  would  have  been  first-rate  but  for  the  dirty  pot, 
and  the  blackguard  cinders,  and  its  burning  to  the  bottom  of 

the  pot.  That  owld  hag,  Mrs.  H ,  bewitched  it  with  her 

evil  eye." 

"  She  is  not  so  clever  as  you  think,  John,"  said  I,  laughing. 
"  You  have  forgotten  how  to  make  the  sugar  since  you  left 
D ;  but  let  us  forget  the  maple  sugar,  and  think  of  some 
thing  else.  Had  you  not  better  get  old  Mrs.  H to  mend 

that  jacket  for  you  ;  it  is  too  ragged." 

"  Ay,  dad !  and  it's  mysel'  is  the  illigant  tailor.  Wasn't  I 
brought  up  to  the  thrade  in  the  Foundling  Hospital  T' 

"  And  why  did  you  quit  it  ?" 

"  Because  it's  a  low,  mane  thrade  for  a  jintleman's  son  ?" 

"  But,  John,  who  told  you  that  you  were  a  gentleman's 
son  T 

"  Och !  but  I'm  shure  of  it,  thin.  All  my  propensities  are 
jintale.  I  love  horses,  and  dogs,  and  fine  clothes,  and  money. 
Och  !  that  I  was  but  a  jintleman !  I'd  show  them  what  life 


JOHN  MONAGHAK  125 

is  intirely,  and  I'd  challenge  Masther  William,  and  have  my 
revenge  out  of  him  for  the  blows  he  gave  me." 

"  You  had  better  mend  your  trowsers,"  said  I,  giving  him 
a  tailor's  needle,  a  pair  of  scissors,  and  some  strong  thread. 

"  Shure,  an'  I'll  do  that  same  in  a  brace  of  shakes,"  and 
sitting  down  upon  a  ricketty  three-legged  stool  of  his  own 
manufacturing,  he  commenced  his  tailoring  by  tearing  off  a 
piece  of  his  trowsers  to  patch  the  elbows  of  his  jacket.  And 
this  trifling  act,  simple  as  it  may  appear,  was  a  perfect  type 
of  the  boy's  general  conduct,  and  marked  his  progress  through 
life.  The  present  for  him  was  every  thing ;  he  had  no  future. 
While  he  supplied  stuff  from  the  trowsers  to  repair  the  frac 
tures  in  the  jacket,  he  never  reflected  that  both  would  be 
required  on  the  morrow.  Poor  John  !  in  his  brief  and  reck 
less  career,  how  often  have  I  recalled  that  foolish  act  of  his. 
It  now  appears  to  me  that  his  whole  life  was  spent  in  tearing 
his  trowsers  to  repair  his  jacket. 

In  the  evening  John  asked  me  for  a  piece  of  soap. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  soap,  John  1" 

"  To  wash  my  shirt,  ma'arm.  Shure  an'  I'm  a  baste  to  be 
seen,  as  black  as  the  pots.  Sorra  a  shirt  have  I  but  the  one, 
an'  it  has  stuck  on  my  back  so  long  that  I  can  thole  it  no 
longer." 

I  looked  at  the  wrists  and  collar  of  the  condemned  gar 
ment,  which  was  all  of  it  that  John  allowed  to  be  visible. 
They  were  much  in  need  of  soap  and  water. 

"  Well,  John,  I  will  leave  you  the  soap ;  but  can  you 
wash  r 

"  Och,  shure,  an'  I  can  thry.  If  I  soap  it  enough,  and  rub 
long  enough,  the  shirt  must  come  clane  at  last." 

I  thought  the  matter  rather  doubtful ;  but  when  I  went  to 
bed  I  left  what  he  required,  and  soon  saw  through  the  chinks 
in  the  boards  a  roaring  fire,  and  heard  John  whistling  over 


iX(5  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

the  tub.  He  whistled  and  rubbed,  and  washed  and  scrubbed, 
but  as  there  seemed  no  end  to  the  job,  and  he  was  as  long 
washing  this  one  garment  as  Bell  would  have  been  performing 
the  same  operation  on  fifty,  I  laughed  to  myself,  and  thought 
of  my  own  abortive  attempts  in  that  way,  and  went  fast 
asleep.  In  the  morning  John  came  to  his  breakfast,  with  his 
jacket  buttoned  up  to  his  throat. 

"  Could  you  not  dry  your  shirt  by  the  fire,  John  ?  You 
will  get  cold  wanting  it." 

"  Aha,  by  dad !  it's  dhry  enough  now.  The  divil  has  made 
tinder  of  it  long  afore  this." 

"  Why,  what  has  happened  to  it  ?  I  heard  you  washing 
all  night." 

"  Washing !  Faith,  an'  I  did  scrub  it  till  my  hands  were 
all  ruined  intirely,  and  thin  I  took  the  brush  to  it ;  but  sorra 
a  bit  of  the  dirt  could  I  get  out  of  it.  The  more  I  rubbed  the 
blacker  it  got,  until  I  had  used  up  all  the  soap,  and  the  per 
spiration  was  pouring  off  me  like  rain.  '  You  dirthy  owld  bit 
of  a  blackguard  of  a  rag,'  says  I,  in  an  extremity  of  rage, 
*  you're  not  fit  for  the  back  of  a  dacent  lad  an'  a  jintleman. 
The  divil  may  take  ye  to  cover  one  of  his  imps ;'  an'  \vid  that 
I  sthirred  up  the  fire,  and  sent  it  plump  into  the  middle  of  the 
blaze." 

"  And  what  will  you  do  for  a  shirt  ?" 

"  Faith,  do  as  many  a  betther  man  has  done  afore  me,  go 
widout." 

I  looked  up  two  old  shirts  of  my  husband's,  which  John 
received  with  an  ecstacy  of  delight.  He  retired  instantly  to 
the  stable,  but  soon  returned,  with  as  much  of  the  linen  breast 
of  the  garment  displayed  as  his  waistcoat  wrould  allow.  No 
peacock  was  ever  prouder  of  his  tail  than  the  wild  Irish  lad 
was  of  the  old  shirt. 

John  had  been  treated  very  much  like  a  spoiled  child,  and^ 


JOHN  MO  NAG  HAN,  127 

like  most  spoiled  children,  he  was  rather  fond  of  having  his 
own  way.  Moodie  had  set  him  to  do  something  which  was 
rather  contrary  to  his  own  inclinations ;  he  did  not  object  to 
the  task  in  words,  for  he  was  rarely  saucy  to  his  employers, 
but  he  left  the  following  stave  upon  the  table,  written  in 
pencil  upon  a  scrap  of  paper  torn  from  the  back  of  an  old 
letter  :— 

*'  A  man  alive,  an  ox  may  drive 

Unto  a  springing  well ; 
To  make  him  drink,  as  lie  may  think, 
No  man  can  him  compel. 

"  Jorm  MONAGHAN." 


128  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTEK   IX. 

PHOEBE    H ,    AND    OUR    SECOND    MOVING. 

"She  died  in  early  womanhood, 
Sweet  scion  of  a  stem  so  rude ; 
A  child  of  Nature,  free  from  art, 
With  candid  brow  and  open  heart; 
The  flowers  she  loved  now  gently  wave 
Above  her  low  and  nameless  grave," 

rwas  during  the  month  of  March  that  Uncle  Joe's  eldest 
daughter,  Phoebe,  a  very  handsome  girl,  and  the  best  of 
the  family,  fell  sick.  I  went  over  to  see  her.  The  poor  girl 
was  very  depressed,  and  stood  but  a  slight  chance  for  her  life, 
being  under  the  medical  treatment  of  three  or  four  old  wo 
men,  who  all  recommended  different  treatment  and  admin 
istered  different  nostrums.  Seeing  that  the  poor  girl  was 
dangerously  ill,  I  took  her  mother  aside,  and  begged  her  to 
lose  no  time  in  procuring  proper  medical  advice.  Mrs.  Joe 
listened  to  me  very  sullenly,  and  said  there  was  no  danger ; 
that  Phoabe  had  caught  a  violent  cold  by  going  hot  from  the 
wash-tub  to  fetch  a  pail  of  water  from  the  spring;  that  the 
neighbours  knew  the  nature  of  her  complaint,  and  would  soon 
cure  her. 

The  invalid  turned  upon  me  her  fine  dark  eyes,  in  which  the 
light  of  fever  painfully  burned,  and  motioned  me  to  come  near 
her.  I  sat  down  by  her,  and  took  her  burning  hand  in  mine. 

"  I  am  dying,  Mrs.  Moodie,  but  they  won't  believe  me.  I 
wish  you  would  talk  to  mother  to  send  for  the  doctor." 


PHCEBE  B- — .  129 

"  I  will.  Is  there  any  thing  I  can  do  for  you  1 — any  thing  I 
can  make  for  you,  that  you  would  like  to  take  ?" 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  can't  eat.  But  I  want  to  ask  you 
one  thing,  which  I  wish  very  much  to  know."  She  grasped  my 
hand  tightly  between  her  own.  Her  eyes  looked  darker,  and 
her  feverish  cheek  paled.  "  What  becomes  of  people  when 
they  die  f 

"  Good  heavens !"  I  exclaimed  involuntarily ;  "  can  you  be 
ignorant  of  a  future  state  ?" 

"  What  is  a  future  state  ?" 

I  endeavoured,  as  well  as  I  was  able,  to  explain  to  her  the 
nature  of  the  soul,  its  endless  duration,  and  responsibility 
to  God  for  the  actions  done  in  the  flesh ;  its  natural  depravity 
and  need  of  a  Saviour ;  urging  her,  in  the  gentlest  manner,  to 
lose  no  time  in  obtaining  forgiveness  of  her  sins,  through  the 
atoning  blood  of  Christ. 

The  poor  girl  looked  at  me  with  surprise  and  horror. 
These  things  were  all  new  to  her.  She  sat  like  one  in  a 
dream ;  yet  the  truth  seemed  to  flash  upon  her  at  once. 

"  How  can  I  speak  to  God,  who  never  knew  Him  1  How 
can  I  ask  Him  to  forgive  me  *?" 

"  You  must  pray  to  Him." 

"  Pray !  I  don't  know  how  to  pray.  I  never  said  a  prayer 
in  my  life.  Mother ;  can  you  teach  me  how  to  pray  f 

"  Nonsense  !"  said  Mrs.  Joe,  hurrying  forward.  "  Why 
should  you  .trouble  yourself  about  such  things  ?  Mrs.  Moo- 
die,  I  desire  you  not  to  put  such  thoughts  into  my  daughter's 
head.  We  don't  want  to  know  any  thing  about  Jesus  Christ 
here." 

"  Oh,  mother,  don't  speak  so  to  the  lady  !  Do,  Mrs.  Moo- 
die,  tell  me  more  about  God  and  my  soul.  I  never  knew  until 
now  that  I  had  a  soul." 

Deeply  compassionating  the  ignorance  of  the  poor  girl,  in 
6* 


130  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

spite  of  the  menaces  of  the  heathen  mother — for  she  was  no 
better,  but  rather  worse,  seeing  that  the  heathen  worships* 
in  ignorance  a  false  God,  while  this  woman  lived  without 
acknowledging  a  God  at  all,  and  therefore  considered  her 
self  free  from  all  moral  restraint — I  bid  Phoebe  good-bye, 
and  promised  to  bring  my  bible,  and  read  to  her  the  next 
day. 

The  gratitude  manifested  by  this  sick  girl  was  such  a  con 
trast  to  the  rudeness  and  brutality  of  the  rest  of  the  family, 
that  I  soon  felt  a  powerful  interest  in  her  fate. 

The  mother  did  not  actually  forbid  me  the  house,  because 
she  saw  that  my  visits  raised  the  drooping  spirits  of  her 
child,  whom  she  fiercely  loved,  and,  to  save  her  life,  would 
cheerfully  have  sacrificed  her  own.  But  she  never  failed  to 
make  all  the  noise  she  could  to  disturb  my  reading  and  con 
versation  with  Phrebe.  She  could  not  be  persuaded  that  her 
daughter  was  really  in  any  danger,  until  the  doctor  told  her 
that  her  case  was  hopeless ;  then  the  grief  of  the  mother  burst 
forth,  and  she  gave  way  to  the  most  frantic  and  impious  com 
plainings. 

The  rigour  of  the  winter  began  to  abate.  The  beams  of 
the  sun  during  the  day  were  warm  and  penetrating,  and  a  soft 
wind  blew  from  the  south.  I  watched,  from  day  to  day,  the 
snow  disappearing  from  the  earth,  with  indescribable  pleas 
ure,  and  at  length  it  wholly  vanished ;  not  even  a  solitary 
patch  lingered  under  the  shade  of  the  forest  trees  j  but  Uncle 
Joe  gave  no  sign  of  removing  his  family." 

"Does  he  mean  to  stay  all  the  summer'?"  thought  I. 
"  Perhaps  he  never  intends  going  at  all.  I  will  ask  him,  the 
next  time  he  comes  to  borrow  whiskey." 

In  the  afternoon  he  walked  in  to  light  his  pipe,  and,  with 
some  anxiety,  I  made  the  inquiry. 

"  Well,  I  guess  we  can't  be  moving  afore  the  end  of  May. 


OUR  SECOND  MOVING.  131 

My  missus  expects  to  be  confined  the  fore  part  of  the  month, 
and  I  shan't  move  till  she  be  quite  smart  agin."  .  y 

"  You  are  not  using  us  well,  in  keeping  i*S  out  of  the  house 
so  long." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  a  curse  about  any  of  you.  It  is  my 
house  as  long  as  I  choose  to  remain  in  it,  and  you  may  put 
up  with  it  the  best  way  you  can  j"  and,  humming  a  Yankee 
tune,  he  departed. 

I  had  borne  patiently  the  odious,  cribbed-up  place  during 
the  winter,  but  now  the  hot  weather  was  coming,  it  seemed 
almost  insupportable,  as  we  were  obliged  to  have  a  fire  in 
the  close  room,  in  order  to  cook  our  provisions.  I  consoled 
myself  as  well  as  I  could  by  roaming  about  the  fields  and 
woods,  and  making  acquaintance  with  every  wild  flower  as  it 
blossomed,  and  in  writing  long  letters  to  home  friends,  in 
which  I  abused  one  of  the  finest  countries  in  the  world  as  the 
worst  that  God  ever  called  out  of  chaos.  I  can  recall  to 
memory,  at  this  moment,  the  few  lines  of  a  poem  which  com 
menced  in  this  strain ;  nor  am  I  sorry  that  the  rest  of  it  has 
passed  into  oblivion : — 

Oh !  land  of  waters,  how  my  spirit  tires, 
In  the  dark  prison  of  thy  boundless  woods; 

No  rural  charm  poetic  thought  inspires, 
No  music  murmurs  in  thy  mighty  floods ; 

Though  vast  the  features  that  compose  thy  frame, 

Turn  where  we  will,  the  landscape  's  still  the  same. 

The  swampy  margin  of  thy  inland  seas, 

The  eternal  forest  girdling  either  shore, 
Its  belt  of  dark  pines  sighing  in  the  breeze, 

And  rugged  fields,  with  rude  huts  dotted  o'er, 
Show  cultivation  unimproved  by  art, 
That  sheds  a  barren  dullness  on  the  heart. 

How  many  home-sick  emigrants,  during  their  first  winter 


132  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  LUSH. 

in  Canada,  will  respond  to  this  gloomy  picture !  Let  them 
wait  a  few  years;  the  sun  of  hope  will  arise  and  beautify  the, 
landscape,  and  they  will  proclaim  the  country  one  of  the  finest 
in  the  world. 

The  middle  of  May  at  length  arrived,  and,  by  the  number 
of  long,  lean  women,  with  handkerchiefs  of  all  colours  tied 
over  their  heads,  who  passed  my  door,  and  swarmed  into 
Mrs.  Joe's  house,  I  rightly  concluded  that  another  young  one 
had  been  added  to  the  tribe ;  and,  shortly  after,  Uncle  Joe 
himself  announced  the  important  fact,  by  putting  his  jolly 
red  face  in  at  the  door,  and  telling  me,  that  "  his  missus  had 
got  a  chopping  boy ;  and  he  was  right  glad  of  it,  for  he  was 
tired  of  so  many  gals,  and  that  he  should  move  in  a  fortnight, 
if  his  woman  did  kindly." 

I  had  been  so  often  disappointed  that  I  paid  very  little 
heed  to  him,  but  this  time  he  kept  his  word. 

The  last  day  of  May,  they  went,  bag  and  baggage,  the 
poor  sick  Phoebe,  who  still  lingered  on,  and  the  new-born  in 
fant;  and  right  joyfully  I  sent  a  Scotch  girl  (another  Bell, 
whom  I  had  hired  in  lieu  of  her  I  had  lost),  and  Monaghan, 
to  clean  out  the  Augean  stable.  In  a  few  minutes  John  re 
turned,  panting  with  indignation. 

"The  house,"  he  said,  "was  more  filthy  than  a  pig-sty." 
But  that  was  not  the  worst  of  it,  Uncle  Joe,  before  he  went, 
had  undermined  the  brick  chimney,  and  let  all  the  water  into 
the  house.  "  Oh,  but  if  he  comes  here  agin,"  he  continued, 
grinding  his  teeth  and  doubling  his  fist,  "  I'll  thrash  him  for 
it.  And  thin,  ma'arm,  he  has  girdled  round  all  the  best  graft 
apple-trees,  the  murtherin'  owld  villain,  as  if  it  could  spile  his 
digestion  our  ating  them." 

"  It  would  require  a  strong  stomach  to  digest  apple-trees, 
John ;  but  never  mind,  it  can't  be  helped,  and  we  may  be 
very  thankful  that  these  people  are  gone  at  last." 


OUR  SECOND  MOVING.  133 

John  and  Bell  scrubbed  at  the  house  all  day,  and  in  the 
evening  they  carried  over  the  furniture,  and  I  went  to  inspect 
our  new  dwelling. 

It  looked  beautifully  clean  and  neat.  Bell  had  white 
washed  all  the  black,  smoky  walls  and  boarded  ceilings, 
and  scrubbed  the  dirty  window-frames,  and  polished  the  fly- 
spotted  panes  of  glass,  until  they  actually  admitted  a  glimpse 
of  the  clear  air  and  the  blue  sky.  Snow-white  fringed  cur 
tains,  and  a  bed,  with  furniture  to  correspond,  a  carpeted  floor, 
and  a  large  pot  of  green  boughs  on  the  hearthstone,  gave  an 
air  of  comfort  and  cleanliness  to  a  room  which,  only  a  few 
hours  before,  had  been  a  loathsome  den  of  filth  and  impurity. 

This  change  would  have  been  very  gratifying,  had  not  a 
strong,  disagreeable  odour  almost  deprived  me  of  my  breath 
as  I  entered  the  room.  It  was  unlike  any  thing  I  had  ever 
smelt  before,  and  turned  me  so  sick  and  faint  that  I  had  to 
cling  to  the  door-post  for  support. 
.  "  Where  does  this  dreadful  smell  come  from?" 

"  The  guidness  knows,  ma'am  ;  John  and  I  have  searched 
the  house  from  the  loft  to  the  cellar,  but  we  canna  find  out 
the  cause  of  thae  stink." 

"  It  must  be  in  the  room,  Bell ;  and  it  is  impossible  to 
remain  here,  or  live  in  this  house,  until  it  is  removed." 

Glancing  my  eyes  all  round  the  place,  I  spied  what  seemed 
to  me  a  little  cupboard,  over  the  mantel-shelf,  and  I  told  John 
to  see  if  I  was  right.  The  lad  mounted  upon  a  chair,  and 
pulled  open  a  small  door,  but  almost  fell  to  the  ground  with 
the  dreadful  stench  which  seemed  to  rush  from  the  closet. 

"  What  is  it,  John?"  I  cried  from  the  open  door. 

"  A  skunk  !  ma'arm,  a  skunk !  Shure,  I  thought  the  divil 
had  scorched  his  tail,  and  left  the  grizzled  hair  behind  him. 
What  a  strong  perfume  it  has !"  he  continued,  holding  up  the 
beautiful  but  odious  little  creature  by  the  tail. 


134  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  By  dad  !  I  know  all  about  it  now.  I  saw  Ned  Layton, 
only  two  days  ago,  crossing  the  field  with  Uncle  Joe,  with  his 
gun  on  his  shoulder,  and  this  wee  bit  baste  in  his  hand.  They 
were  both  laughing  like  sixty.  '  Well,  if  this  does  not  stink 
the  Scotchman  out  of  the  house,'  said  Joe,  '  I'll  be  contint  to 
be  tarred  and  feathered ;'  and  thin  they  both  laughed  until 
they  stopped  to  draw  breath." 

I  could  hardly  help  laughing  myself;  but  I  begged 
Monaghan  to  convey  the  horrid  creature  away,  and  putting 
some  salt  and  sulphur  into  a  tin  plate,  and  setting  fire  to  it,  I . 
placed  it  on  the  floor  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  closed 
all  the  doors  for  an  hour,  which  greatly  assisted  in  purifying 
the  house  from  the  skunkification.  Bell  then  washed  out  the 
closet  with  strong  ley,  and  in  a  short  time  no  vestige  re 
mained  of  the  malicious  trick  that  Uncle  Joe  had  played  off 
upon  us. 

The  next  day,  we  took  possession  of  our  new  mansion,  and 
no  one  was  better  pleased  with  the  change  than  little  Katie. 
She  was  now  fifteen  months  old,  and  could  just  begin  to  prat 
tle,  but  she  dared  not  venture  to  step  alone,  although  she 
would  stand  by  a  chair  all  day,  and  even  climb  upon  it.  She 
crept  from  room  to  room,  feeling  and  admiring  every  thing, 
and  talking  to  it  in  her  baby  language.  So  fond  was  the  dear 
child  of  flowers,  that  her  father  used  to  hold  her  up  to  the 
apple-trees,  then  rich  in  their  full  spring  beauty,  that  she 
might  kiss  the  blossoms.  She  would  pat  them  with  her  soft 
white  hands,  murmuring  like  a  bee  among  the  branches.  To 
keep  her  quiet  whilst  I  was  busy,  I  had  only  to  give  her  a 
bunch  of  wild  flowers.  She  would  sit  as  still  as  a  lamb,  look 
ing  first  at  one  and  then  at  another,  pressing  them  to  her  little 
breast  in  a  sort  of  ecstacy,  as  if  she  comprehended  the  worth 
of  this  most  beautiful  of  God's  gifts  to  man. 

She  was  a  sweet,  lovely  flower  herself,  and  her  charming 


OUR  SECOND  MOVING.  135 

infant  graces  reconciled  me,  more  than  aught  else,  to  a  weary 
lot.  Was  she  not  purely  British?  Did  not  her  soft  blue 
eyes,  and  sunny  curls,  and  bright  rosy  cheeks  for  ever  remind 
me  of  her  Saxon  origin,  and  bring  before  me  dear  forms  and 
faces  I  could  never  hope  to  behold  again  ? 

The  first  night  we  slept  in  the  new  house,  a  demon  of  un 
rest  had  taken  possession  of  it  in  the  shape  of  a  countless 
swarm  of  mice.  They  scampered  over  our  pillows,  and 
jumped  upon  our  faces,  squeaking  and  cutting  a  thousand 
capers  over  the  floor.  I  never  could  realize  the  true  value  of 
Whittington's  invaluable  cat  until  that  night.  At  first  we 
laughed  until  our  sides  ached,  but  in  reality  it  was  no  laugh 
ing  matter.  Moodie  remembered  that  we  had  left  a  mouse 
trap  in  the  old  house  ;  he  went  and  brought  it  over,  baited  it, 
and  set  it  on  the  table  near  the  bed.  During  the  night  no 
less  than  fourteen  of  the  provoking  vermin  were  captured  ; 
and  for  several  succeeding  nights  the  trap  did  equal  execution. 
How  Uncle  Joe's  family  could  have  allowed  such  a  nuisance 
to  exist  astonished  me ;  to  sleep  with  these  creatures  con 
tinually  running  over  us  was  impossible  ;  and  they  were  not 
the  only  evils  in  the  shape  of  vermin  we  had  to  contend  with. 
The  old  logs  which  composed  the  walls  of  the  house  were  full 
of  bugs  and  large  black  ants ;  and  the  place,  owing  to  the 
number  of  dogs  that  always  had  slept  under  the  beds  with 
the  children,  was  infested  with  fleas.  It  required  the  utmost 
care  to  rid  the  place  of  these  noisome  and  disgusting  tenants. 
Arriving  in  the  country  in  the  autumn,  we  had  never  expe-' 
rienced  any  inconvenience  from  the  mosquitoes,  but  after 
the  first  moist,  warm  spring  days,  particularly  after  the 
showers,  these  tormenting  insects  annoyed  us  greatly.  The 
farm,  lying  in  a  valley  cut  up  with  little  streams  in  every 
direction,  made  us  more  liable  to  their  inflictions.  The 
hands,  arms,  and  face  of  the  poor  babe  were  covered  every 


136  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

morning  with  red  inflamed  bumps,  which  often  threw  out 
blisters. 

The  banks  of  the  little  streams  abounded  with  wild  straw 
berries,  which,  although  small,  were  of  a  delicious  flavour. 
Thither  Bell  and  I,  and  the  baby,  daily  repaired  to  gather  the 
bright  red  berries  of  Nature's  own  providing.  Katie,  young 
as  she  was,  was  very  expert  at  helping  herself,  and  we  used  to 
seat  her  in  the  middle  of  a  fine  bed,  whilst  we  gathered  far 
ther  on.  Hearing  her  talking  very  lovingly  to  something  in 
the  grass,  which  she  tried  to  clutch  between  her  white  hands, 
calling  it  "  Pitty,  pitty  ;"  I  ran  to  the  spot,  and  found  that  it 
was  a  large  garter-snake  that  she  was  so  affectionately  court 
ing  to  her  embrace.  Not  then  aware  that  this  formidable- 
looking  reptile  was  perfectly  harmless,  I  snatched  the  child  up 
in  my  arms,  and  ran  with  her  home ;  never  stopping  until  I 
gained  the  house,  and  saw  her  safely  seated  in  her  cradle. 

It  had  been  a  very  late,  cold  spring,  but  the  trees  had  fully 
expanded  into  leaf,  and  the  forest  world  was  glorious  in  its 
beauty.  Every  patch  of  cleared  land  presented  a  vivid  green 
to  the  eye ;  the  brook  brawled  in  the  gay  sunshine,  and  the 
warm  air  was  filled  with  soft  murmurs.  Gorgeous  butterflies 
floated  about  like  winged  flowers,  and  feelings  allied  to  poetry 
and  gladness  once  more  pervaded  my  heart.  In  the  evening 
we  wandered  through  the  woodland  paths,  beneath  the  glow 
ing  Canadian  sunset,  and  gathered  rare  specimens  of  strange 
plants  and  flowers.  Every  object  that  met  my  eyes  was  new 
to  me,  and  produced  that  peculiar  excitement  which  has  its 
origin  in  a  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  a  love  of  variety. 

We  had  commenced  gardening,  too,  and  my  vegetables 
did  great  credit  to  my  skill  and  care ;  and,  when  once  the 
warm  weather  sets  in,  the  rapid  advance  of  vegetation  in  Can 
ada  is  astonishing.  Not  understanding  much  about  farming, 
especially  in.  a  climate  like  Canada,  Moodie  was  advised,  by  a- 


OUR  SECOND  MOVING.  137 

neighbouring  settler  to  farm  his  farm  upon  shares.  This  ad 
vice  seemed  very  reasonable ;  and  had  it  been  given  disinter 
estedly,  and  had  the  persons  recommended  (a  man  and  his 
wife)  been  worthy  or  honest  people,  we  might  have  done  very 
well.  But  the  farmer  had  found  out  their  encroaching  ways, 
was  anxious  to  get  rid  of  them  himself,  and  saw  no  better  way 
of  doing  so  than  by  palming  them  upon  us. 

From  our  engagement  with  these  people  commenced  that 
long  series  of  losses  and  troubles  to  which  their  conduct 
formed  the  prelude.  They  were  to  live  in  the  little  shanty 
that  we  had  just  left,  and  work  the  farm.  Moodie  was  to  find 
them  the  land,  the  use  of  his  implements  and  cattle,  and  all 
the  seed  for  the  crops ;  and  to  share  with  them  the  returns. 
Besides  this,  they  unfortunately  were  allowed  to  keep  their 
own  cows,  pigs,  and  poultry.  The  produce  of  the  orchard, 
with  which  they  had  nothing  to  do,  was  reserved  for  our  own 
use.  For  the  first  few  weeks,  they  were  civil  and  obliging 
enough  ;  and  had  the  man  been  left  to  himself,  I  believe  we 
should  have  done  pretty  well ;  but  the  wife  was  a  coarse- 
minded,  bold  woman,  who  instigated  him  to  every  mischief. 
They  took  advantage  of  us  in  every  way  they  could,  and  were 
constantly  committing  petty  depredations. 

From  our  own  experience  of  this  mode  of  farming,  I  would 
strenuously  advise  all  new  settlers  never  to  embrace  any  such 
offer,  without  they  are  well  acquainted  with  the  parties,  and 
can  thoroughly  rely  upon  their  honesty  ;  or  else,  like  Mrs. 

O ,  they  may  impudently  tell  you  that  they  can  cheat 

you  as  they  please,  and  defy  you  to  help  yourself.  All  the 
money  we  spent  on  the  farm  was  entirely  for  these  people's 
benefit,  for  by  their  joint  contrivances  very  little  of  the  crops 
fell  to  our  share ;  and  when  any  division  was  made,  it  was 
always  when  Moodie  was  absent  from  home  ;  and  there  was 
no  person  present  to  see  fair  play.  They  sold  what  apples 


138  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

and  potatoes  they  pleased,  and  fed  their  hogs  ad  libitum. 
But  even  their  roguery  was  more  tolerable  than  the  irksome 
restraint  which  their  near  vicinity,  and  consequently  having 
to  come  in  contact  with  them,  imposed.  We  had  no  longer 
any  privacy,  our  servants  were  cross-questioned,  and  our 
family  affairs  canvassed  by  these  gossiping  people,  who  spread 
about  a  thousand  falsehoods  regarding  us.  I  was  so  much 
disgusted  with  this  shareship,  that  I  wrould  gladly  have  given 
them  all  the  proceeds  of  the  farm  to  get  rid  of  them,  but  the 
bargain  was  for  twelve  months,  and  bad  as  it  was.  we  could 
not  break  our  engagement. 

One  little  trick  of  this  woman's  will  serve  to  illustrate  her 
general  conduct.  A  neighbouring  farmer's  wife  had  presented 
me  with  some  very  pretty  hens,  who  followed  to  the  call  of 
old  Betty  Fye's  handsome  game-cock.  I  was  always  fond 
of  fowls,  and  the  innocent  Katie  delighted  in  her  chicks,  and 
would  call  them  round  her  to  the  sill  of  the  door  to  feed  from 

her  hand.     Mrs.  0 had  the  same  number  as  I  had,  and  I 

often  admired  them  when  marshalled  forth  by  her  splendid 
black  rooster.  One  morning  I  saw  her  eldest  son  chop  off  the 
head  of  the  fine  bird ;  and  I  asked  his  mother  why  she  had 
allowed  him  to  kill  the  beautiful  creature.  She  laughed,  and  ' 
merely  replied  that  she  wanted  it  for  the  pot.  The  next  day 
my  sultan  walked  over  to  the  widowed  hens,  and  took  all  his 
seraglio  with  him.  From  that  hour  I  never  gathered  a  single 
egg  ;  the  hens  deposited  all  their  eggs  in  Mrs.  O 's  hen 
house.  She  used  to  boast  of  this  as  an  excellent  joke  among 
her  neighbours. 

On  the  9th  of  June  my  dear  little  Agnes  was  born.  A 
few  days  after  this  joyful  event,  I  heard  a  great  bustle  in  the 
room  adjoining  to  mine,  and  old  Dolly  Howe,  my  Cornish 
nurse,  informed  me  that  it  wajs  occasioned  by  the  people  who 
came  to  attend  the  funeral  of  Phoebe  H .  She  only  sur- 


OUR  SECOND  MOVING.  139 

vived  the  removal  of  the  family  a  week ;  and  at  her  own 

request  had  been  brought  all  the  way  from  the  lake 

plains  to  be  interred  in  the  burying-ground  on  the  hill  which 
overlooked  the  stream. 

As  I  lay  upon  my  pillow  1  could  distinctly  see  the  spot, 
and  mark  the  long  funeral  procession,  as  it  wound  along  the 
banks  of  the  brook.  It  was  a  solemn  and  imposing  spectacle, 
that  humble  funeral.  When  the  wagons  reached  the  rude 
enclosure,  the  coffin  was  carefully  lifted  to  the  ground,  the  door 
in  the  lid  opened,  and  old  and  young  approached,  one  after 
another,  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  dead,  before  consigning  her 
to  the  oblivion  of  the  grave. 

Poor  Phoebe  !  Gentle  child,  of  coarse,  unfeeling  parents, 
few  shed  more  sincerely  a  tear  for  thy  early  fate  than  the 
stranger  whom  they  hated  and  despised.  Often  have  I  stood 
beside  that  humble  mound,  when  the  song  of  the  lark  was 
above  me,  and  the  bee  murmuring  at  my  feet,  and  thought 
that  it  was  well  for  thee  that  God  opened  the  eyes  of  thy  soul, 
and  called  thee  out  of  the  darkness  of  ignorance  and  sin,  to 
glory  in  His  marvellous  light.  Sixteen  years  have  passed  away 
since  I  heard  any  thing  of  the  family,  or  what  had  become  of 
them,  when  I  was  told  by  a  neighbour  of  theirs,  whom  I  acci 
dentally  met  last  winter,  that  the  old  woman,  who  now  nearly 
numbers  a  hundred  years,  is  still  living,  and  inhabits  a  corner 
of  her  son's  barn,  as  she  still  quarrels  too  much  with  his  wife 
to  reside  with  Joe  ;  that  the  girls  are  all  married  and  gone  ; 
and  that  Joe  himself,  although  he  does  not  know  a  letter,  has 
commenced  travelling  preacher.  After  this,  who  can  doubt  the 
existence  of  miracles  in  the  nineteenth  century  ? 


140  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTEK   X. 

BRIAN,     THE     S  TILL-H  UN  TEE. 

TT  was  early  day.  I  was  alone  in  the  old  shanty,  preparing 
J-  breakfast,  and  now  and  then  stirring  the  cradle  with  my 
foot,  when  a  tall,  thin,  middle-aged  man  walked  into  the  house, 
followed  by  two  large,  strong  dogs. 

Placing  the  rifle  he  had  carried  on  his  shoulder,  in  a  corner 
of  the  room,  he  advanced  to  the  hearth,  and  without  speaking, 
or  seemingly  looking  at  me,  lighted  his  pipe,  and  commenced 
smoking.  The  dogs,  after  growling  and  snapping  at  the  cat, 
who  had  not  given  the  strangers  a  very  courteous  reception, 
sat  down  on  the  hearth-stone  on  either  side  of  their  taciturn 
master,  eyeing  him  from  time  to  time,  as  if  long  habit  had 
made  them  understand  all  his  motions.  There  was  a  great 
contrast  between  the  dogs.  The  one  was  a  brindled  bulldog 
of  the  largest  size,  a  most  formidable  and  powerful  brute ;  the 
other  a  staghound,  tawny,  deep-chested,  and  strong-limbed. 
I  regarded  the  man  and  his  hairy  companions  with  silent 
curiosity. 

He  was  between  forty  and  fifty  years  of  age ;  his  head, 
nearly  bald,  was  studded  at  the  sides  with  strong,  coarse, 
black  curling  hair.  His  features  were  high,  his  complexion, 
brightly  dark,  and  his  eyes,  in  size,  shape,  and  colour,  greatly 
resembled  the  eyes  of  a  hawk.  The  face  itself  was  sorrowful 
and  taciturn ;  and  his  thin,  compressed  lips  looked  as  if  they 
were  not  much  accustomed  to  smile,  or  often  to  unclose  to 


BRIAN,  THE  STILL-HUNTER.  141 

hold  social  communion  with  any  one.  He  stood  at  the  side 
of  the  huge  hearth,  silently  smoking,  his  eyes  bent  on  the  fire, 
and  now  and  then  he  patted  the  heads  of  his  dogs,  reproving 
their  exuberant  expressions  of  attachment,  with — "  Down, 
Musie  ;  down,  Chance  !" 

"  A  cold,  clear  morning,"  said  I,  in  order  to  attract  his 
attention  and  draw  him  into  conversation. 

A  nod,  without  raising  his  head,  or  withdrawing  his  eyes 
from  the  fire,  was  his  only  answer ;  and,  turning  from  my 
unsociable  guest,  I  took  up  the  baby,  who  just  then  awoke,  sat 
down  on  a  low  stool  by  the  table,  and  began  feeding  her. 
During  this  operation,  I  once  or  twice  caught  the  stranger's 
hawk-eye  fixed  upon  me  and  the  child,  but  word  spoke  he 
none  ;  and  presently,  after  whistling  to  his  dogs,  he  resumed 
his  gun,  and  strode  out. 

When  Moodie  and  Monaghan  came  in  to  breakfast,  I  told 
them  what  a  strange  visitor  I  had  had  ;  and  Moodie  laughed 
at  my  vain  attempt  to  induce  him  to  talk. 

"  He  is  a  strange  being,"  I  said ;  "  I  must  find  out  who  and 
what  he  is." 

In  the  afternoon  an  old  soldier,  called  Layton,  who  had 
served  during  the  American  war,  and  got  a  grant  of  land 
about  a  mile  in  the  rear  of  our  location,  came  in  to  trade  for 
a  cow.  Now,  this  Layton  was  a  perfect  ruffian ;  a  man  whom 
no  one  liked,  and  whom  all  feared.  He  was  a  deep  drinker, 
a  great  swearer,  in  short,  a  perfect  reprobate  ;  who  never  cul 
tivated  his  land,  but  went  jobbing  about  from  farm  to  farm, 
trading  horses  and  cattle,  and  cheating  in  a  pettifogging  way. 
Uncle  Joe  had  employed  him  to  sell  Moodie  a  young  heifer, 
and  he  had  brought  her  over  for  him  to  look  at.  When  he  came 
in  to  be  paid,  I  described  the  stranger  of  the  morning ;  and  as 
I  knew  that  he  was  familiar  with  every  one  in  the  neighbour 
hood,  I  asked  if  he  knew  him. 


142  ROVG-IJ1NG-  IT  IN  THE 

"  No  one  should  know  him  better  than  myself,"  he  said  ; 

"  'tis  old  Brian  B ,  the  still-hunter,  and  a  near  neighbour 

of  your'n.  A  sour,  morose,  queer  chap  he  is,  and  as  mad  as 
a  March  hare  !  He's  from  Lancashire,  in  England,  and  came 
to  this  country  some  twenty  years  ago,  with  his  wife,  who 
was  a  pretty  young  lass  in  those  days,  and  slim  enough  then, 
though  she's  so  awful  fleshy  now.  He  had  lots  of  money, 
too,  and  he  bought  four  hundred  acres  of  land,  just  at  the  cor 
ner  of  the  concession  line,  where  it  meets  the  main  road. 
And  excellent  land  it  is ;  and  a  better  farmer,  while  he  stuck 
to  his  business,  never  went  into  the  bush,  for  it  was  all  bush 
here  then.  He  was  a  dashing,  handsome  fellow,  too,  and  did 
not  hoard  the  money  either ;  he  loved  his  pipe  and  his  pot 
too  well ;  and  at  last  he  left  off'  farming,  and  gave  himself  to 
them  altogether.  Many  a  jolly  booze  he  and  I  have  had,  I 
can  tell  you.  Brian  was  an  awful  passionate  man,  and,  when 
the  liquor  was  in,  and  the  wit  was  out,  as  savage  and  as  quar 
relsome  as  a  bear.  At  such  times  there  was  no  one  but  Ned 
Lay  ton  dared  go  near  him.  We  once  had  a  pitched  battle, 
in  which  I  was  conqueror ;  and  ever  arter  he  yielded  a  sort 
of  sulky  obedience  to  all  I  said  to  him.  Arter  being  on  the 
spree  for  a  week  or  two,  he  would  take  fits  of  remorse,  and 
return  home  to  his  wife  ;  would  fall  down  at  her  knees, 
and  ask  her  forgiveness,  and  cry  like  a  child.  At  other 
times  he  would  hide  himself  up  in  the  woods,  and  steal 
home  at  night,  and  get  what  he  wanted  out  of  the  pantry, 
without  speaking  a  word  to  any  one.  He  went  on  with 
these  pranks  for  some  years,  till  he  took  a  fit  of  the  blue 
devils. 

" '  Come  away,  Ned,  to  the lake,  with  me,'  said 

he ;  'I  am  weary  of  my  life,  and  I  want  a  change.' 

"  '  Shall  we  take  the  fishing-tackle  V  says  I.  '  The  black 
bass  are  in  prime  season,  and  F will  lend  us  the  old 


BKIAN,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  143 

Canoe.  He's  got  some  capital  rum  up  from  Kingston.  We'll 
fish  all  day,  and  have  a  spree  at  night.' 

" '  It's  not  to  fish  I'm  going,'  says  he. 

" '  To  shoot,  then  ?     I've  bought  Rockwood's  new  rifle.' 

" '  It's  neither  to  fish  nor  to  shoot,  Ned :  it's  a  new  game 
I'm  going  to  try ;  so  come  along.' 

"  Well,  to  the  lake  we  went.  The  day  was  very 

hot,  and  our  path  lay  through  the  woods,  and  over  those 
scorching  plains,  for  eight  long  miles.  I  thought  I  should  have 
dropped  by  the  way ;  but  during  our  long  walk  my  com 
panion  never  opened  his  lips.  He  strode  on  before  me,  at  a 
half  run,  never  once  turning  his  head. 

"  '  The  man  must  be  the  devil !'  says  I,  '  and  accustomed  to 
a  warmer  place,  or  he  must  feel  this.  Hollo,  Brian !  Stop 
there  !  Do  you  mean  to  kill  me  V 

" '  Take  it  easy,'  says  he ;  '  you'll  see  another  day  arter 
this — I've  business  on  hand,  and  cannot  wait.' 

"  Well,  on  we  went,  at  the  same  awful  rate,  and  it  was 
mid-day  when  we  got  to  the  little  tavern  on  the  lake  shore, 

kept  by  one  F ,  who  had  a  boat  for  the  convenience  of 

strangers  who  came  to  visit  the  place.  Here  we  got  our  din 
ner,  and  a  glass  of  rum  to  wash  it  down.  But  Brian  was 
moody,  and  to  all  my  jokes  he  only  returned  a  sort  of 

grunt ;  and  while  I  was  talking  with  F ,  he  steps  out,  and 

a  few  minutes  arter  we  saw  him  crossing  the  lake  in  the  old 
canoe. 

"  '  What's  the  matter  with  Brian  f  says  F ;  '  all  does 

not  seem  right  with  him,  Ned.  You  had  better  take  the  boat, 
and  look  arter  him.' 

"  '  Pooh  !'  says  I;  '  he's  often  so,  and  grows  so  glum  now- 
a-days  that  I  will  cut  his  acquaintance  altogether  if  he  does 
not  improve.' 

" '  He  drinks  awful  hard,'  says  F — — ;  '  may  be  he's  got 


144  SOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

a  fit  of  the  delirium-tremulous.  There  is  no  telling  what  he 
may  be  up  to  at  this  minute.' 

"  My  mind  misgave  me  too,  so  I  e'en  takes  the  oars,  an*d 
pushes  out,  right  upon  Brian's  track  ;  and,  by  the  Lord  Harry ! 
if  I  did  not  find  him,  upon  my  landing  upon  the  opposite 
shore,  lying  wallowing  in  his  blood,  with  his  throat  cut.  '  Is 
that  you,  Brian  V  says  I,  giving  him  a  kick  with  my  foot,  to 
see  if  he  was  alive  or  dead.  '  What  upon  earth  tempted  you 

to  play  me  and  F such  a  dirty,  mean  trick,  as  to  go  and 

stick  yourself  like  a  pig,  bringing  such  a  discredit  upon  the 
house  ? — and  you  so  far  from  home  and  those  who  should 
nurse  you.' 

"I  was  so  mad  with  him,  that  (saving  your  presence, 
ma'am)  I  swore  awfully,  and  called  him  names  that  would  be 
ondacent  to  repeat  here ;  but  he  only  answered  with  groans 
and  a  horrid  gurgling  in  his  throat.  '  It's  choking  you  are,' 
said  I ;  '  but  you  sha'n't  have  your  own  way,  and  die  so  easily 
either,  if  I  can  punish  you  by  keeping  you  alive.'  So  I  just 
turned  him  upon  his  stomach,  with  his  head  down  the  steep 
bank;  but  he  still  kept  choking  and  growing  black  in  the 
face." 

Layton  then  detailed  some  particulars  of  his  surgical  prac 
tice  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  repeat.  He  continued, 

"  I  bound  up  his  throat  with  my  handkerchief,  and  took 
him  neck  and  heels,  and  threw  him  into  the  bottom  of  the 
boat.  Presently  he  came  to  himself  a  little,  and  sat  up  in  the 
boat;  and — would  you  believe  it? — made  several  attempts 
to  throw  himself  into  the  water.  '  This  will  not  do,'  says  I ; 
'  you've  done  mischief  enough  already  by  cutting  your  wea- 
sand !  If  you  dare  to  try  that  again,  I  will  kill  you  with  the  oar.' 
I  held  it  up  to  threaten  him ;  he  wTas  scared,  and  lay  down  as 
quiet  as  a  lamb.  I  put  my  foot  upon  his  breast.  *  Lie  still, 
now!  or  you'll  catch  it.'  He  looked  piteously  at  me;  he 


BRIAN,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  145 

could  not  speak,  but  his  eyes   seemed  to  say,   l  Have  pity 
upon  me,  Ned ;  don't  kill  me.' 

"Yes,  ma'am;  this  man,  who  had  just  cut  his  throat,  and 
twice  arter  that  tried  to  drown  himself,  was  afraid  that  I- 
should  knock  him  on  the  head  and  kill  him.  Ha !  ha !  I 

never  shall  forget  the  work  that  F and  I  had  with  him 

arter  I  got  him  up  to  the  house.' 

"  The  doctor  came,  and  sewed  up  his  throat ;  and  his  wife 
— poor  crittur! — came  to  nurse  him.  Bad  as  he  was,  she 
was  mortal  fond  of  him !  He  lay  there,  sick  and  unable  to 
leave  his  bed,  for  three  months,  and  did  nothing  but  pray  to 
God  to  forgive  him,  for  he  thought  the  devil  would  surely 
have  him  for  cutting  his  own  throat  j  and  when  he  got  about 
again,  which  is  now  twelve  years  ago,  he  left  off  drinking  en 
tirely,  and  wanders  about  the  woods  with  his  dogs,  hunting. 
He  seldom  speaks  to  any  one,  and  his  wife's  brother  carries 
on  the  farm  for  the  family.  He  is  so  shy  of  strangers  that 
'tis  a  wonder  he  came  in  here.  The  old  wives;  are  afraid  of 
him ;  but  you  need  not  heed  him — his  troubles  are  to  him 
self,  he  harms  no  one." 

Layton  departed,  and  left  me  brooding  over  the  sad  tale 
which  he  had  told  in  such  an  absurd  and  jesting  manner.  It 
was  evident  from  the  account  he  had  given  of  Brian's  attempt 
at  suicide,  that  the  hapless  hunter  was  not  wholly  answerable 
for  his  conduct — that  he  was  a  harmless  maniac. 

The  next  morning,  at  the  very  same  hour,  Brian  again 
made  his  appearance ;  but  instead  of  the  rifle  across  his  shoul 
der,  a  large  stone  jar  occupied  the  place,  suspended  by  a  stout 
leather  thong.  Without  saying  a  word,  but  with  a  truly  be 
nevolent  smile,  that  flitted  slowly  over  his  stern  features,  and 
lighted  them  up,  like  a  sunbeam  breaking  from  beneath  a 
stormy  cloud,  he  advanced  to  the  table,  and  unslmging  the 
jar,  set  it  down  before  me,  and  in  a  low  and  gruff,,  but  by  no 

7 


146  ROUGIIIXG  IT  IN  TIIE 

means  an  unfriendly  voice,  said,  "Milk,  for  the  child,"  an<3 
vanished. 

"How  good  it  was  of  him !  How  kind  I"  I  exclaimed,  as 
I  poured  the  precious  gift  of  four  quarts  of  pure  new  milk  out 
into  a  deep  pan,  I  bad  not  asked  him — had  never  said  thaft 
the  poor  weanling*  wanted  milk.  It  was  the  eonrtesy  of  a 
gentleman — of  a  man  of  benevolence  and  refinement. 

For  weeks  did  my  strange,  silent  friend  steal  m,  take  up 
the  empty  jar,  and  supply  its  place  with  another  replenished 
with  milk.  The  baby  knew  Ms  step,  and  would  hold  out  her 
hands  to  him  and  cry  "  Milk !"  and  Brian  would  sloop  down 
and  kiss  her,  and  his  two  great  dogs  lick  her  face. 

"  Have  j&a  any  children,  Mr.  B T' 

"Yes,  five;  but  none  like  this." 

"  My  little  girl  is  greatly  indebted  to  yoca  for  your  kind 
ness." 

"  She's  welcome,  or  she  would  not  get  it.  You  are  stran 
gers  ;  but  I  like  you  all.  You  look  kind,  and  I  would  like  to 
know  rrrore  about  700.** 

Hoodie  shook  hands  with  the  old  hunter,  and  assured  Mra 
that  we  should  always  be  glad  to  see  him.  After  this  invita 
tion,  Brian  became  a  frequent  guest.  He  would  sit  and  listen 
with  delight  to  Mood'ie  while  he  described  to  him  elephant- 
hunting  at  the  Cape ;  grasping  his  rifle  in  a  determined  man 
ner,  and  whistling  an  encouraging  air  to  his  dogs.  I  a^ked 
him  one  evening  what  made  him  so  fond  of  hunting. 

"  Tis  the  excitement,"  he  said ;  "  it  drowns  thought,  and  I 
love  to  be  alone.  I  am  sorry  for  the  creatures,  too,  for  they 
are  free  and  happy  ;  yet  I  am  led  by  an  instinct  I  cannot  re 
strain  to  kill  them.  Sometimes  the  sight  of  their  dying 
agonies  recalls  painful  feelings ;  and  then  I  lay  aside  the  gim, 
and  do  not  hunt  for  days.  But  rtis  fine  to  be  alone  with  God 
in  the  great  woods — to  watch  the  sunbeams  stealing  through 


SRI  AN,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  147 

the  thick  branches,  the  blue  sky  breaking  in  upon  you  in 
patches,  and  to  know  that  all  is  bright  and  shiny  above  you, 
in  spite  of  the  gloom  that  surrounds  you." 

After  a  long  pause,  he  continued,  with  much  solemn  feeling 
in  his  look  and  tone, 

"  I  lived  a  life  of  folly  for  years,  for  I  was  respectably  born 
and  educated,  and  had  seen  something  of  the  world,  perhaps 
more  than  was  good,  before  I  left  home  for  the  woods  ;  and 
from  the  teaching  I  had  received  from  kind  relatives  and 
parents  I  should  have  known  how  to  have  conducted  myself 
better.  But,  madam,  if  we  associate  long  with  the  depraved 
and  ignorant,  we  learn  to  become  even  worse  than  they  are. 
I  felt  deeply  my  degradation — felt  that  I  had  become  the 
slave  to  low  vice ;  and  in  order  to  emancipate  myself  from 
the  hateful  tyranny  of  evil  passions,  I  did  a  very  rash  and 
foolish  thing.  I  need  not  mention  the  manner  in  which  I 
transgressed  God's  holy  laws ;  all  the  neighbours  know  it, 
and  must  have  told  you  long  ago,  I  could  have  borne  re 
proof,  but  they  turned  my  sorrow  into  indecent  jests,  and, 
unable  to  bear  their  coarse  ridicule,  I  made  companions  of 
my  dogs  and  gun,  and  went  forth  into  the  wilderness.  Hunt 
ing  became  a  habit.  I  could  no  longer  live  without  it,  and  it 
supplies  the  stimulant  which  I  lost  when  I  renounced  the 
cursed  whiskey  bottle. 

"  I  remember  the  first  hunting  excursion  I  took  alone  in 
the  forest.  How  sad  and  gloomy  I  felt !  I  thought  that  there 
was  no  creature  in  the  world  so  miserable  as  myself.  I  was 
tired  and  hungry,  and  I  sat  down  upon  a  fallen  tree  to  rest. 
All  was  still  as  death  around  me,  and  I  was  fast  sinking  to 
sleep,  when  my  attention  was  aroused  by  a  long,  wild  cry.  My 
dog,  for  I  had  not  Chance  then,  and  he's  no  hunter,  pricked  up 
his  ears,  but  instead  of  answering  with  a  bark  of  defiance,  he 
crouched  down,  trembling,  at  my  feet.  'What  does  this 


148  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSff. 

mean  V  I  cried,  and  I  cocked  my  rifle  and  sprang  upon  the 
log.  The  sound  came  nearer  upon  the  wind.  It  was  like  the 
deep  baying  of  a  pack  of  hounds  in  full  cry.  Presently  a 
noble  deer  rushed  past  me,  and  fast  upon  his  trail — I  see 
them  now,  like  so  many  black  devils — swept  by  a  pack  of  ten 
or  fifteen  large,  fierce  wolves,  with  fiery  eyes  and  bristling 
hair,  and  paws  that  seemed  hardly  to  touch  the  ground  in 
their  eager  haste.  I  thought  not  of  danger,  for,  with  their 
prey  in  view,  I  was  safe ;  but  I  felt  every  nerve  within  me 
tremble  for  the  fate  of  the  poor  deer.  The  wolves  gained 
upon  him  at  every  bound.  A  close  thicket  intercepted  his 
path,  and,  rendered  desperate,  he  turned  at  bay.  His  nostrils 
were  dilated,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  send  forth  long  streams 
of  light.  It  was  wonderful  to  witness  the  courage  of  the 
beast.  How  bravely  he  repelled  the  attacks  of  his  deadly 
enemies,  how  gallantly  he  tossed  them  to  the  right  and  left, 
and  spurned  them  from  beneath  his  hoofs  ;  yet  all  his  strug 
gles  were  useless,  and  •  he  was  quickly  overcome  and  torn  to 
pieces  by  his  ravenous  foes.  At  that  moment  he  seemed 
more  unfortunate  even  than  myself,  for  I  could  not  see  in 
what  manner  he  had  deserved  his  fate.  All  his  speed  and 
energy,  his  courage  and  fortitude,  had  been  exerted  in  vain. 
I  had  tried  to  destroy  myself;  but  he,  with  every  effort 
vigorously  made  for  self-preservation,  was  doomed  to  meet 
the  fate  he  dreaded  !  Is  God  just  to  his  creatures  f 

With  this  sentence  on  his  lips,  he  started  abruptly  from  his 
seat  and  left  the  house. 

One  day  he  found  me  painting  some  wild  flowers,  and  was 
greatly  interested  in  watching  the  progress  I  made  in  the 
group.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day  he  brought 
me  a  large  bunch  of  splendid  spring  flowers. 

" Draw  these,"  said  he ;  "I  have  been  all  the  way  to  the 
— lake  plains  to  find  them  for  you." 


3KIAN,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  149 

Little  Katie,  grasping  them  one  by  one,  with  infantile  joy, 
kissed  every  lovely  blossom. 

"  These  are  God's  pictures,"  said  the  hunter,  "  and  the 
child,  who  is  all  nature,  understands  them  in  a  minute.  Is  it 
not  strange  that  these  beautiful  things  are  hid  away  in  the 
wilderness,  where  no  eyes  but  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  the 
wild  beasts  of  the  wood,  and  the  insects  that  live  upon  them, 
ever  see  them  ?  Does  God  provide,  for  the  pleasure  of  such 
creatures,  these  flowers  1  Is  His  benevolence  gratified  by  the 
admiration  of  animals  whom  we  have  been  taught  to  consider 
as  having  neither  thought  nor  reflection  ?  When  I  am  alone 
in  the  forest,  these  thoughts  puzzle  me." 

Knowing  that  to  argue  with  Brian  was  only  to  call  into 
action  the  slumbering  fires  of  his  fatal  malady,  I  turned  the 
conversation  by  asking  him  why  he  called  his  favourite  dog 
Chance  ? 

"  I  found  him,"  he  said,  "  forty  miles  back  in  the  bush.  He 
was  a  mere  skeleton.  At  first,  I  took  him  for  a  wolf,  but  the 
shape  of  his  head  undeceived  me.  I  opened  my  wallet,  and 
called  him  to  me.  He  came  slowly,  stopping  and  wagging 
his  tail  at  every  step,  and  looking  me  wistfully  in  the  face. 
I  offered  him  a  bit  of  dried  venison,  and  he  soon  became 
friendly,  and  followed  me  home,  and  has  never  left  me  since. 
I  called  him  Chance,  after  the  manner  I  happened  with  him ; 
and  I  would  not  part  with  him  for  twenty  dollars." 

Alas,  for  poor  Chance !  he  had,  unknown  to  his  master, 
contracted  a  private  liking  for  fresh  mutton,  and  one  night  he 

killed  no  less  than  eight  sheep  that  belonged  to  Mr.  D , 

on  the  front  road  ;  the  culprit,  who  had  been  long  suspected, 
was  caught  in  the  very  act,  and  this  mischance  cost  him  his 
life.  Brian  was  sad  and  gloomy  for  many  weeks  after  his 
favourite's  death. 


150  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"I  would  have  restored  the  sheep  fourfold," he  said,  "if  he 
would  but  have  spared  the  life  of  my  dog." 

My  recollections  of  Brian  seem  more  particularly  to  con 
centrate  in  the  adventures  of  one  night,  when  I  happened  to 
be  left  alone,  for  the  first  time  since  my  arrival  in  Canada. 
I  cannot  now  imagine  how  I  could  have  been  such  a  fool  as  to 
give  way  for  four-and-twenty  hours  to  such  childish  fears ;  but 
so  it  was,  and  I  will  not  disguise  my  weakness  from  my  indul 
gent  reader.  Moodie  had  bought  a  very  fine  cow  of  a  black 
man,  named  Mollineux,  for  which  he  was  to  give  twenty- 
seven  dollars.  The  man  lived  twelve  miles  back  in  the  woods ; 
and  one  fine,  frosty  spring  day — (don't  smile  at  the  term 
frosty,  thus  connected  with  the  genial  season  of  the  year  ;  the 
term  is  perfectly  correct  when  applied  to  the  Canadian  spring, 
which,  until  the  middle  of  May,  is  the  most  dismal  season  of 
the  year) — he  and  John  Monaghan  took  a  rope,  and  the  dog, 
and  sallied  forth  to  fetch  the  cow  home.  Moodie  said  that 
they  should  be  back  by  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and 
charged  me  to  have  something  cooked  for  supper  when  they 
returned,  as  he  doubted  not  their  long  walk  in  the  sharp  air 
would  give  them  a  good  appetite.  This  was  during  the  time 

that  I  was  without  a  servant,  and  living  in  old  Mrs. 's 

shanty. 

The  day  was  so  bright  and  clear,  and  Katie  was  so  full  of , 
frolic  and  play,  rolling  upon  the  floor,  or  toddling  from  chair 
to  chair,  that  the  day  passed  on  without  my  feeling  remarkably 
lonely.  At  length  the  evening  drew  nigh,  and  I  began  to 
expect  my  husband's  return,  and  to  think  of  the  supper  that  I 
was  to  prepare  for  his  reception.  The  red  heifer  that  we  had 
bought  of  Layton,  came  lowing  to  the  door  to  be  milked  ;  but 
I  did  not  know  how  to  milk  in  those  days,  and,  besides  this, 
I  was  terribly  afraid  of  cattle.  Yet,  as  I  knew  that  milk 
would  be  required  for  the  tea,  I  ran  across  the  meadow  to 


BRIAN,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  151 

Mrs.  Joe,  and  begged  that  one  of  her  girls  would  be  so  kind 
as  to  milk  for  me.  My  request  was  greeted  with  a  rude  burst 
of  laughter  from  the  whole  set. 

"  If  you  can't  milk,"  said  Mrs,  Joe,  "  it's  high  time  you 
should  learn.  My  girls  are  above  being  helps." 

"  I  would  not  ask  you  but  as  a  great  favour ;  I  am  afraid 
of  cows." 

"  Afraid  of  cows  !  Lord  bless  the  woman !  A  farmer's 
wife,  and  afraid  of  cows !" 

Here  followed  another  laugh  at  my  expense  ;  and,  indig 
nant  at  the  refusal  of  my  first  and  last  request,  when  they  had 
all  borrowed  so  much  from  me,  I  shut  the  inhospitable  door, 
and  returned  home. 

After  many  ineffectual  attempts,  I  succeeded  at  last,  and 
bore  my  half-pail  of  milk  in  triumph  to  the  house.  Yes !  I 
felt  prouder  of  that  milk  than  many  an  author  of  the  best 
thing  he  ever  wrote,  whether  in  verse  or  prose ;  and  it  was 
doubly  sweet  when  I  considered  that  I  had  procured  it  without 
being  under  any  obligation  to  my  ill-natured  neighbours.  I 
had  learned  a  useful  lesson  of  independence,  to  which,  in  after 
years,  I  had  often  again  to  refer. 

I  fed  little  Katie  and  put  her  to  bed,  made  the  hot  cakes 
for  tea,  boiled  the  potatoes,  and  laid  the  ham,  cut  in  nice 
slices,  in  the  pan,  ready  to  cook  the  moment  I  saw  the  men 
enter  the  meadow,  and  arranged  the  little  room  with  scrupu 
lous  care  and  neatness.  A  glorious  fire  was  blazing  on  the 
hearth,  and  every  thing  was  ready  for  their  supper ;  and  I 
began  to  look  out  anxiously  for  their  arrival. 

The  night  had  closed  in  cold  and  foggy,  and  I  could  no 
longer  distinguish  any  object  at  more  than  a  few  yards  from 
the  door.  Bringing  in  as  much  wood  as  I  thought  would  last 
me  for  several  hours,  I  closed  the  door ;  and  for  the  first  time 
in  iny  life  I  found  myself  at  night  in  a  house  entirely  alone. 


152  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

Then  I  began  to  ask  myself  a  thousand  torturing  questions  as 
to  the  reason  of  their  unusual  absence.  Had  they  lost  their 
way  in  the  woods  ?  Could  they  have  fallen  in  with  wolves 
(one  of  my  early  bugbears)  1  Could  any  fatal  accident  have 
befallen  them?  I  started  up,  opened  the  door,  held  my 
breath,  and  listened.  The  little  brook  lifted  up  its  voice  in 
loud,  hoarse  wailing,  or  mocked,  in  its  babbling  to  the  stones, 
the  sound  of  human  voices.  As  it  became  later,  my  fears  in 
creased  in  proportion.  I  grew  too  superstitious  and  nervous 
to  keep  the  door  open.  I  not  only  closed  it,  but  dragged  a 
heavy  box  in  front,  for  bolt  there  was  none.  Several  ill- 
booking  men  had,  during  the  day,  asked  their  way  to  Toronto. 
I  felt  alarmed  lest  such  rude  wayfarers  should  come  to-night 
and  demand  a  lodging,  and  find  me  alone  and  unprotected. 
;Once  I  thought  of  running  across  to  Mrs.  Joe,  and  asking  her 
to  let  one  of  the  girls  stay  with  me  until  Moodie  returned ; 
but  the  way  in  which  I  had  been  repulsed  in  the  evening  pre 
vented  me  from  making  a  second  appeal  to  their  charity. 

Hour  after  hour  wore  away,  and  the  crowing  of  the  cocks 
proclaimed  midnight,  and  yet  they  came  not.  I  had  burned 
out  all  my  wood,  and  I  dared  not  open  the  door  to  fetch  in 
more.  The  candle  was  expiring  in  the  socket,  and  I  had  not 
courage  to  go  up  into  the  loft  and  procure  another  before  it 
went  finally  out.  Cold,  heart- weary,  and  faint,  I  sat  and  cried. 
Every  now  and  then  the  furious  barking  of  the  dogs  at  the 
neighbouring  farms,  and  the  loud  cackling  of  the  geese  upon 
our  own,  made  me  hope  that  they  were  coming ;  and  then  I 
listened  till  the  beating  of  my  own  heart  excluded  all  other 
sounds.  Oh,  that  unwearied  brook  \  how  it  sobbed  and 
moaned  like  a  fretful  child ; — what  unreal  terrors  and  fanciful 
illusions  my  too  active  mind  conjured  up,  whilst  listening  to 
its  mysterious  tones ! 

Just  as  the  moon  rose,  the  howling  of  a  pack  of  wolves,  from 


,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  153 

the  great  swamp  in  our  rear,  filled  the  whole  air.  Their  yells 
were  answered  by  the  barking  of  all  the  dogs  in  the  vicinity, 
and  the  geese,  unwilling  to  be  behindhand  in  the  general  con 
fusion,  set  up  the  most  discordant  screams.  I  had  often  heard, 
and  even  been  amused,  during  the  winter,  particularly  on  thaw 
nights,  with  hearing  the  howls  of  these  formidable  wild  beasts ; 
but  I  had  never  before  heard  them  alone,  and  wKen  one  dear 
to  me  was  abroad  amid  their  haunts.  They  were  directly  in 
the  track  that  Moodie  and  Monaghan  must  have  taken ;  and  I 
now  made  no  doubt  that  they  had  been  attacked  and  killed  on 
their  return  through  the  woods  with  the  cow,  and  I  wept  and 
sobbed  until  the  cold  gray  dawn  peered  in  upon  me  through 
the  small  dim  windows.  I  have  passed  many  a  long  cheerless 
night,  when  my  dear  husband  was  away  from  me  during  the 
rebellion,  and  I  was  left  in  my  forest  home  with  five  little 
children,  and  only  an  old  Irish  woman  to  draw  and  cut  wood 
for  my  fire,  and  attend  to  the  wants  of  the  family,  but  that 
was  the  saddest  and  longest  night  I  ever  remember. 

Just  as  the  day  broke,  my  friends,  the  wolves,  set  up  a 
parting  benediction,  so  loud,  and  wild,  and  near  to  the  house, 
that  I  was  afraid  lest  they  should  break  through  the  frail  win 
dows,  or  come  down  the  low,  wide  chimney,  and  rob  me  of 
my  child.  But  their  detestable  howls  died  away  in  the  dis 
tance,  and  the  bright  sun  rose  up  and  dispersed  the  wild 
horrors  of  the  night,  and  I  looked  once  more  timidly  around 
me.  The  sight  of  the  table  spread,  and  the  uneaten  supper, 
renewed  my  grief,  for  I  could  not  divest  myself  of  the  idea 
that  Moodie  was  dead.  I  opened  the  door,  and  stepped  forth 
into  the  pure  air  of  the  early  day.  A  solemn  and  beautiful 
repose  still  hung  like  a  veil  over  the  face  of  Nature.  The 
mists  of  night  still  rested  upon  the  majestic  woods,  and  not  a 
sound  but  the  flowing  of  the  waters  went  up  in  the  vast  still 
ness.  The  earth  had  not  yet  raised  her  matin  hymn  to  the 

7* 


154  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

throne  of  the  Creator.  Sad  at  heart,  and  weary  and  worn  in 
spirit,  I  went  down  to  the  spring  and  washed  my  face  and 
head,  and  drank  a  deep  draught  of  its  icy  waters.  On  return 
ing  to  the  house  I  met,  near  the  door,  old  Brian  the  hunter, 
with  a  large  fox  dangling  across  his  shoulder,  and  the  dogs 
following  at  his  heels. 

"  Good  €rod !  Mrs.  Moodie,  what  is  the  matter  ?  You  are 
early  abroad  this  morning,  and  look  dreadful  ill.  Is  any  thing 
wrong  at  home  1  Is  the  baby  or  your  husband  sick  ?" 

"  Oh !"  I  cried,  bursting  into  tears,  "  I  fear  he  is  killed  by 
the  wolves." 

The  man  stared  at  me,  as  if  he  doubted  the  evidence  of  his 
senses,  and  well  he  might ;  but  this  one  idea  had  taken  such 
strong  possession  of  my  mind  that  I  could  admit  no  other.  I 
then  told  him,  as  well  as  I  could  find  words,  the  cause  of  my 
alarm,  to  which  he  listened  very  kindly  and  patiently. 

"  Set  your  heart  at  rest ;  your  husband  is  safe.  It  is  a 
long  journey  on  foot  to  Mollineux,  to  one  unacquainted  with 
a  blazed  path  in  a  bush  road.  They  have  staid  all  night 
at  the  black  man's  shanty,  and  you  will  see  them  back  at 
noon." 

I  shook  my  head  and  continued  to  weep. 

"  Well,  now,  in  order  to  satisfy  you,  I  will  saddle  my 
mare,  and  ride  over  to  the  nigger's,  and  bring  you  word  as 
fast  as  I  can." 

I  thanked  him  sincerely  for  his  kindness,  and  returned,  in 
somewhat  better  spirits,  to  the  house.  At  ten  o'clock  my 
good  messenger  returned  with  the  glad  tidings  that  all  was 
well. 

The  day  before,  when  half  the  journey  had  been  accom 
plished,  John  Monaghan  let  go  the  rope  by  which  he  led  the 
cow,  and  she  had  broken  away  through  to  the  woods,  and  re 
turned  to  her  old  master ;  and  when  they  again  reached  his 


BRIAtf,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  155 

place,  night  had  set  in,  and  they  were  obliged  to  wait  until  the 
return  of  day.  Moodie  laughed  heartily  at  all  my  fears  ;  but 
indeed  I  found  them  no  joke. 

Brian's  eldest  son,  a  lad  of  fourteen,  was  not  exactly  an 
idiot,  but  what,  in  the  old  country,  is  very  expressively  termed 
by  the  poor  people  a  "  natural."  He  could  feed  and  assist 
himself,  had  been  taught  imperfectly  to  read  and  write,  and 
could  go  to  and  from  the  town  on  errands,  and  carry  a  mes 
sage  from  one  farm-house  to  another ;  but  he  was  a  strange, 
wayward  creature,  and  evidently  inherited,  in  no  small  de 
gree,  his  father's  malady. 

During  the  summer  months  he  lived  entirely  in  the  woods, 
near  his  father's  dwelling,  only  returning  to  obtain  food,  which 
was  generally  left  for  him  in  an  outhouse.  In  the  winter,  driven 
home  by  the  severity  of  the  weather,  he  would  sit  for  days 
together  moping  in  the  chimney-corner,  without  taking  the 
least  notice  of  what  was  passing  around  him.  Brian  never 
mentioned  this  boy — who  had  a  strong,  active  figure ;  a  hand 
some,  but  very  inexpressive  face — without  a  deep  sigh  ;  and 
I  feel  certain  that  half  his  own  dejection  was  occasioned  by 
the  mental  aberration  of  his  child. 

One  day  he  sent  the  lad  with  a  note  to  our  house,  to  know 
if  Moodie  would  purchase  the  half  of  an  ox  that  he  was  going 
to  kill.  There  happened  to  stand  in  the  corner  of  the  room 
an  open  wood  box,  into  which  several  bushels  of  fine  apples 
had  been  thrown ;  and,  while  Moodie  was  writing  an  answer 
to  the  note,  the  eyes  of  the  idiot  were  fastened,  as  if  by  some 
magnetic  influence,  upon  the  apples.  Knowing  that  Brian  had 
a  very  fine  orchard,  I  did  not  offer  the  boy  any  of  the  fruit. 
When  the  note  was  finished,  I  handed  it  to  him.  The  lad 
grasped  it  mechanically,  without  removing  his  fixed  gaze  from 
the  apples, 

".Give  that  to  your  tether,  lorn." 


156  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  SUSS. 

The  boy  answered  not — his  ears,  his  eyes,  his  whole  soul, 
'trere  concentrated  in  the  apples.   Ten  minutes  elapsed,  but  he 
stood  motionless,  like  a  pointer  at  a  dead  set. 
-'     **  My  good  boy,  you  can  go." 

He  did  not  stir. 

"  Is  there  any  thing  you  want  ?" 

"  I  want,"  said  the  lad,  without  moving  his  eyes  from  the 
objects  of  his  intense  desire,  and  speaking  in  a  slow,  pointed 
manner,  which  ought  to  have  been  heard  to  be  fully  appreci 
ated,  "I  want  ap-ples!" 

"  Oh,  if  that's  all,  take  what  you  like." 

,"  The  permission  once  obtained,  the  boy  flung  himself  upon 
the  box  with  the  rapacity  of  a  hawk  upon  its  prey,  after 
being  long  poised  in  the  air,  to  fix  its  certain  aim ;  thrusting 
his  hands  to  the  right  and  left,  in  order  to  secure  the  finest 
specimens  of  the  coveted  fruit,  scarcely  allowing  himself  time 
to  breathe  until  he  had  filled  his  old  straw  hat,  and  all  his 
pockets,  with  apples.  To  help  laughing  was  impossible ;  while 
this  new  Tom  o'  Bedlam  darted  from  the  house,  and  scam 
pered  across  the  field  for  dear  life,  as  if  afraid  that  we  should 
pursue  him,  to  rob  him  of  his  prize. 

It  was  during  this  winter  that  our  friend  Brian  was  left 
a  fortune  of  three  hundred  pounds  per  annum ;  but  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  return  to  his  native  country,  in  order 
to  take  possession  of  the  property.  This  he  positively  refused 
to  do ;  and  when  we  remonstrated  with  him  on  the  apparent 
imbecility  of  this  resolution,  he  declared  that  he  would  not 
risk  his  life,  in  crossing  the  Atlantic  twice,  for  twenty  times 
that  sum.  What  strange  inconsistency  was  this,  in  a  being 
who  had  three  times  attempted  to  take  away  that  which 
he  dreaded  so  much  to  lose  accidentally ! 

I  was  much  amused  with  an  account  which  he  gave  me,  in 
his  quaint  way,  of  an  excursion  he  went  upon  with  a  botanist, 


3RIAN,  THE  STILL-HUNTER,  157 

to  collect  specimens  of  the  plants  and  flowers  of  Upper 
Canada. 

"  It  was  a  fine  spring  day.  some  ten  years  ago,  and  I  was 
yoking  my  oxen  to  drag  in  some  oats  I  had  just  sown,  when  a 
little,  fat,  punchy  man,  with  a  broad,  red,  good-natured  face, 
and  carrying  a  small  black  leathern  wallet  across  his  shoulder, 
called  to  me  over  the  fence,  and  asked  me  if  my  name  was 
Brian  B—  ?  I  said,  '  Yes  ;  what  of  that  V 

"  *  Only  you  are  the  man  I  want  to  see.  They  tell  me  that 
you  are  better  acquainted  with  the  woods  than  any  person  in 
these  parts ;  and  I  will  pay  you  any  thing  in  reason  if  you  will 
be  my  guide  for  a  few  days.' 

" '  Where  do  you  want  to  go  V  said  I. 

" '  No  where  in  particular,'  says  he.  '  I  want  to  go  here 
and  there,  in  all  directions,  to  collect  plants  and  flowers.' 

"  That  is  still-hunting  with  a  vengeance,  thought  I.  c  To 
day  I  must  drag  in  my  oats.  If  to-morrow  will  suit  we  will 
be  off.' 

" '  And  your  charge  V  said  he.  c  I  like  to  be  certain  of 
that.' 

" '  A  dollar  a^day.  My  time  and  labour  upon  my  farm,  at 
this  busy  season,  is  worth  more  than  that.' 

" '  True,'  said  he.  '  Well,  I'll  give  you  what  you  ask. 
At  what  time  will  you  be  ready  to  start  V 

"  '  By  daybreak,  if  you  wish  it.' 

"  Away  he  went ;  and  by  daylight  next  morning  he  was  at 
my  door,  mounted  upon  a  stout  French  pony.  « What  are 
you  going  to  do  with  that  beast  ]'  said  I.  '  Horses  are  of  no 
use  on  the  road  that  you  and  I  are  to  travel.  You  had  better 
leave  him  in  my  stable.' 

" *  I  want  him  to  carry  my  traps,'  said  he ;  'it  may  be 
some  days  that  we  shall  be  absent.' 

"I  assured  him  that  he  must  be  his  own  beast  of  burthen, 


158  COUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

and  carry  his  axe,  and  blanket,  and  wallet  of  food  upon  his 
own  back.  The  little  body  did  not  much  relish  this  arrange 
ment  ;  but  as  there  was  no  help  for  it,  he  very  good-naturedly 
complied.  Off  we  set,  and  soon  climbed  the  steep  ridge  at 

the  back  of  your  farm,  and  got  upon lake  plains.  The 

woods  were  flush  with  flowers ;  and  the  little  man  grew  into 
such  an  ecstacy,  that  at  every  fresh  specimen  he  uttered  a 
yell  of  joy,  cut  a  caper  in  the  air,  and  flung  himself  down 
upon  them,  as  if  he  was  drunk  with  delight.  '  Oh,  what 
treasures !  what  treasures !'  he  cried.  '  I  shall  make  my 
fortune !' 

"  It  is  seldom  I  laugh,"  quoth  Brian,  "  but  I  could  not  help 
laughing  at  this  odd  little  man ;  for  it  was  not  the  beautiful 
blossoms  such  as  you  delight  to  paint,  that  drew  forth  these 
exclamations,  but  the  queer  little  plants,  which  he  had  rum 
maged  for  at  the  roots  of  old  trees,  among  the  moss  and  long 
grass.  He  sat  upon  a  decayed  trunk,  which  lay  in  our  path, 
I  do  believe  for  a  long  hour,  making  an  oration  over  some 
grayish  things,  spotted  with  red,  that  grew  upon  it,  which 
looked  more  like  mould  than  plants,  declaring  himself  repaid 
for  all  the  trouble  and  expense  he  had  been  at,  if  it  were  only 
to  obtain  a  sight  of  them.  I  gathered  him  a  beautiful  blossom 
of  the  lady's  slipper ;  but  he  pushed  it  back  when  I  presented 
it  to  him,  saying,  'Yes,  yes,  'tis  very  fine.  I  have  seen  that 
often  before,  but  these  lichens  are  splendid.' 

"  The  man  had  so  little  taste  that  I  thought  him  a  fool,  and 
so  I  left  him  to  talk  to  his  dear  plants,  while  I  shot  partridges 
for  our  supper.  We  spent  six  days  in  the  woods,  and  the 
little  man  filled  his  black  wallet  with  all  sorts  of  rubbish,  as 
if  he  wilfully  shut  his  eyes  to  the  beautiful  flowers,  and  chose 
only  to  admire  ugly,  insignificant  plants,  that  every  body 
else  passes  by  without  noticing,  and  which,  often  as  1  had  been 
in  the  woods,  I  never  had  observed  before.  I  never  pursued 


BRIAN,   THE  STILL-HUNTER.  159 

a  deer  with  such  earnestness  as  he  continued  his  hunt  for  what 
he  called  *  specimens.' 

"  When  we  came  to  the  Cold  Creek,  which  is  pretty  deep  in 
places,  he  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  at  some  plants  that  grew 
under  the  water,  that  in  reaching  after  them  he  lost  his  balance 
and  fell  head  over  heels  into  the  stream.  He  got  a  thorough 
ducking,  and  was  in  a  terrible  fright ;  but  he  held  on  to  the 
flowers  which  had  caused  the  trouble,  and  thanked  his  stars 
that  he  had  saved  them  as  well  as  his  life.  Well,  he  was  an 
innocent  man,"  continued  Brian ;  "  a  very  little  made  him 
happy,  and  at  night  he  would  sing  and  amuse  himself  like  a 
child.  He  gave  me  ten  dollars  for  my  trouble,  and  I  never 
saw  him  again ;  but  I  often  think  of  him,  when  hunting 
in  the  woods  that  we  wandered  through  together,  and  I  pluck 
the  wee  plants  that  he  used  to  admire,  and  wonder  why  he 
preferred  them  to  the  fine  flowers." 

When  our  resolution  was  formed  to  sell  our  farm,  and  take 
up  our  grant  of  land  in  the  backwoods,  no  one  was  so  earnest 
in  trying  to  persuade  us  to  give  up  this  ruinous  scheme  as  our 
friend  Brian  B ,  who  became  quite  eloquent  in  his  descrip 
tion  of  the  trials  and  sorrows  that  awaited  us.  During  the 

last  week  of  our  stay  in  the  township  of  H ,  he  visited 

us  every  evening,  and  never  bade  us  good-night  without  a  tear 
moistening  his  cheek.  We  parted  with  the  hunter  as  with  an 
old  friend  ;  and  we  never  met  again.  His  fate  was  a  sad  one. 
After  we  left  that  part  of  the  country,  he  fell  into  a  moping 
melancholy,  which  ended  in  self-destruction.  But  a  kinder  or 
warmer-hearted  man,  while  he  enjoyed  the  light  of  reason,  has 
seldom  crossed  our  path. 


160  COUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BTTSH. 

. 

CHAPTER  XL 

THE     CHARIVARI. 

THE  moan  of  the  wind  tells  of  the  coming  rain  that  it  b'ears 
upon  its  wings ;  the  deep  stillness  of  the  woods,  and  the 
lengthened  shadow  they  cast  upon  the  stream,  silently  but 
surely  foreshow  the  bursting  of  the  thunder-cloud ;  and  who 
that  has  lived  for  any  time  upon  the  coast,  can  mistake  the 
language  of  the  waves ;  that  deep  prophetic  surging  that 
ushers  in  the  terrible  gale  1  So  it  is  with  the  human  heart— 
it  has  its  mysterious  warnings,  its  fits  of  sunshine  and  shade, 
of  storm  and  calm,  now  elevated  with  anticipations  of  joy, 
now  depressed  by  dark  presentiments  of  ill. 

All  who  have  ever  trodden  this  earth,  possessed  of  the 
powers  of  thought  and  reflection,  of  tracing  effects  back  to 
their  causes,  have  listened  to  these  voices  of  the  soul,  and 
secretly  acknowledged  their  power ;  but  few,  very  few,  have 
had  courage  boldly  to  declare  their  belief  in  them :  the  wisest 
and  the  best  have  given  credence  to  them,  and  the  experience 
of  every  day  proves  their  truth ;  yea,  the  proverbs  of  past 
ages  abound  with  allusions  to  the  same  subject,  and  though 
the  worldly  may  sneer,  and  the  good  man  reprobate  the 
belief  in  a  theory  which  he  considers  dangerous,  yet  the 
former,  when  he  appears  led  by  an  irresistible  impulse  to 
enter  into  some  fortunate,  but  until  then  unthought-of  specula 
tion  ;  and  the  latter,  when  he  devoutly  exclaims  that  God  has 
met  him  in  prayer,  unconsciously  acknowledge  the  same 


THE  CHARIVARI.  161 

spiritual  agency.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  no  doubts  upon 
the  subject,  and  have  found  many  times,  and  at  different  pe 
riods  of  my  life,  that  the  voice  in  the  soul  speaks  truly ;  that 
if  we  gave  stricter  heed  to  its  mysterious  warnings,  we  should 
be  saved  much  after-sorrow. 

Well  do  I  remember  how  sternly  and  solemnly  this  in 
ward  monitor  warned  me  of  approaching  ill,  the  last  night  I 
spent  at  home ;  how  it  strove  to  draw  me  back  as  from  a 
fearful  abyss,  beseeching  me  not  to  leave  England  and  emi 
grate  to  Canada,  and  how  gladly  would  I  have  obeyed  the 
injunction  had  it  still  been  in  my  power.  I  had  bowed  to  a 
superior  mandate,  the  command  of  duty  ;  for  my  husband's 
sake,  for  the  sake  of  the  infant,  whose  little  bosom  heaved 
against  my  swelling  heart,  I  had  consented  to  bid  adieu  for 
ever  to  my  native  shores,  and  it  seemed  both  useless  and  sin 
ful  to  'draw  back. 

Yet,  by  what  stern  necessity  were  we  driven  forth  to  seek 
a  new  home  amid  the  western  wilds  ?  We  were  not  com 
pelled  to  emigrate.  Bound  to  England  by  a  thousand  holy 
and  endearing  ties,  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  chosen  friends, 
and  happy  in  each  other's  love,  we  possessed  all  that  the 
world  can  bestow  of  good — but  wealth.  The  half-pay  of  a 
subaltern  officer,  managed  with  the  most  rigid  economy,  is 
too  small  to  supply  the  wants  of  a  family ;  and  if  of  a  good 
family,  not  enough  to  maintain  his  original  standing  in  society. 
True,  it  may  find  his  children  bread,  it  may  clothe  them  indi£ 
ferently,  but  it  leaves  nothing  for  the  indispensable  require 
ments  of  education,  or  the  painful  contingencies  of  sickness 
and  misfortune.  In  such  a  case,  it  is  both  wise  and  right  to 
emigrate ;  Nature  points  it  out  as  the  only  safe  Remedy  for 
the  evils  arising  out  of  an  over-dense  population,  and  her  ad 
vice  is  always  founded  upon  justice  and  truth. 

Up  to  the  period  of  which  I  now  speak,  we  had  not  expe- 


162  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSK 

rienced  much  inconvenience  from  our  very  limited  means. 
Our  wants  were  few,  and  we  enjoyed  many  of  the  comforts 
and  even  some  of  the  luxuries  of  life ;  and  all  had  gone  on 
smoothly  and  lovingly  with  us  .until  the  birth  of  our  first 
child.  It  was  then  that  prudence  whispered  to  the  father, 
"  You  are  happy  and  contented  now,  but  this  cannot  always 
last ;  the  birth  of  that  child  whom  you  have  hailed  \vith  as 
much  rapture  as  though  she  were  born  to  inherit  a  noble 
estate,  is  to  you  the  beginning  of  care.  Your  family  may  in 
crease,  and  your  wants  will  increase  in  proportion ;  out  of 
what  fund  can  you  satisfy  their  demands  1  Some  provision 
must  be  made  for  the  future,  and  made  quickly,  while  youth 
and  health  enable  you  to  combat  successfully  with  the  ills  of 
life.  When  you  married  for  inclination,  you  knew  that  emi 
gration  must  be  the  result  of  such  an  act  of  imprudence  in 
over-populated  England.  Up  and  be  doing,  while  you  still 
possess  the  means  of  transporting  yourself  to  a  land  where 
the  industrious  can  never  lack  bread,  and  where  there  is  a 
chance  that  wealth  and  independence  may  reward  virtuous 
toil." 

Alas !  that  truth  should  ever  whisper  such  unpleasant 
realities  to  the  lover  of  ease — to  the  poet,  the  author,  the 
musician,  the  man  of  books,  of  refined  taste  and  gentlemanly 
habits.  Yet  he  took  the  hint,  and  began  to  bestir  himself 
with  the  spirit  and  energy  so  characteristic  of  the  glorious 
North,  from  whence  he  sprung. 

"  The  sacrifice,"  he  said,  "  must  be  made,  and  the  sooner 
the  better.  My  dear  wife,  I  feel  confident  that  you  will  re 
spond  to  the  call  of  duty,  and,  hand  in  hand  and  heart  in  heart, 
we  will  go  forth  to  meet  difficulties,  and,  by  the  help  of  God, 
to  subdue  them." 

Dear  husband  !  I  take  shame  to  myself  that  my  purpose 
was  less  firm,  that  my  heart  lingered  so  far  behind  yours  in 


THE  CHARIVARI.  103 

preparing  for  this  great  epoch  in  our  lives ;  that,  like  Lot's 
wife,  I  still  turned  and  looked  back,  and  clung  with  all  my 
strength  to  the  land  I  was  leaving.  It  was  not  the  hardships 
of  an  emigrant's  life  I  dreaded.  I  could  bear  mere  physical 
privations  philosophically  enough ;  it  was  the  loss  of  the  so 
ciety  in  which  I  had  moved,  the  want  of  congenial  minds,  of 
persons  engaged  in  congenial  pursuits,  that  made  me  so  reluc 
tant  to  respond  to  my  husband's  call. 

I  was  the  youngest  in  a  family  remarkable  for  their  literary 
attainments ;  and,  while  yet  a  child,  I  had  seen  riches  melt 
away  from  our  once  prosperous  home,  as  the  Canadian  snows 
dissolve  before  the  first  warm  days  of  spring,  leaving  the 
verdureless  earth  naked  and  bare. 

There  was,  however,  a  spirit  in  my  family  that  rose 
superior  to  the  crushing  influences  of  adversity.  Poverty, 
which  so  often  degrades  the  weak  mind,  became  their  best 
teacher,  the  stern  but  fruitful  parent  of  high  resolve  and  en 
nobling  thought.  The  very  misfortune  that  overwhelmed, 
became  the  source  from  whence  they  derived  both  energy 
and  strength,  as  the  inundation  of  some  mighty  river  fertilizes 
the  shores  over  which  it  first  spreads  ruin  and  desolation. 
Without  losing  aught  of  their  former  position  in  society,  they 
dared  to  be  poor ;  to  place  mind  above  matter,  and  make  the 
talents  with  which  the  great  Father  had  liberally  endowed 
them,  work  out  their  appointed  end.  The  world  sneered,  and 
summer  friends  forsook  them ;  they  turned  their  back  upon 
the  world,  and  upon  the  ephemeral  tribes  that  live  but  in  its 
smiles. 

From  out  the  solitude  in  which  they  dwelt,  their  names 
went  forth  through  the  crowded  cities  of  that  cold,  sneering 
world,  and  their  names  were  mentioned  with  respect  by  the 
wise  and  good ;  and  what  they  lost  in  wealth  they  more  than 
regained  in  well-earned  reputation. 


164  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  JBUSff. 

Brought  up  in  this  school  of  self-denial,  it  would  have  been 
strange  indeed  if  all  its  wise  and  holy  precepts  had  brought 
forth  no  corresponding  fruit.  I  endeavoured  to  reconcile  my 
self  to  the  change  that  awaited  me,  to  accommodate  my  mind 
and  pursuits  to  the  new  position  in  which  I  found  myself 
placed. 

Many  a  hard  battle  had  we  to  fight  with  old  prejudices, 
and  many  proud  swellings  of  the  heart  to  subdue,  before  we 
could  feel  the  least  interest  in  the  land  of  our  adoption,  or  look 
upon  it  as  our  home. 

All- was  new,  strange,  and  distasteful  to  us ;  we  shrank  from 
the  rude,  coarse  familiarity  of  the  uneducated  people  among 
whom  we  were  thrown ;  and  they  in  return  viewed  us  as  in 
novators,  who  wished  to  curtail  their  independence,  by  ex 
pecting  from  them  the  kindly  civilities  and  gentle  courtesies 
of  a  more  refined  community.  They  considered  us  proud 
and  shy,  when  we  were  only  anxious  not  to  give  offence. 
The  semi-barbarous  Yankee  squatters,  who  had  "  left  their 
country  for  their  country's  good,"  and  by  whom  we  were  sur 
rounded  in  our  first  settlement,  detested  us,  and  with  them  we 
could  have  no  feeling  in  common.  We  could  neither  lie  nor 
cheat  in  our  dealings  with  them ;  and  they  despised  us  for 
our  ignorance  in  trading  and  our  want  of  smartness. 

The  utter  want  of  that  common  courtesy  with  which  a 
well-brought-up  European  addresses  the  poorest  of  his  breth 
ren,  is  severely  felt  at  first  by  settlers  in  Canada.  At  the 
period  of  which  I  am  now  speaking,  the  titles  of  "  sir"  or 
"  madam"  were  very  rarely  applied  by  inferiors.  They  en 
tered  your  house  without  knocking ;  and  while  boasting  of 
their  freedom,  violated  one  of  its  dearest  laws,  which  considers 
even  the  cottage  of  the  poorest  labourer  his  castle,  and  his 
privacy  sacred. 

"  Is  your  man  to  hum  2" — "  Is  the  woman  within  1"  were 


TEE  CHARIVARL  165 

the  general  inquiries  made  to  me  by  such  guests,  while  my 
bare-legged,  ragged  Irish  servants  were  always  spoken  to,  as 
" sir"  and  " mem"  as  if  to  make  the  distinction  more  pointed. 

While  they  treated  our  claims  to  their  respect  with  marked 
insult  and  rudeness,  I  never  could  satisfactorily  determine,  in 
any  way  that  could  reflect  honour  on  the  species,  or  even 
plead  an  excuse  for  its  brutality,  until  I  found  that  this  inso 
lence  was  more  generally  practised  by  the  low,  uneducated 
emigrants  from  Britain,  who  better  understood  your  claims 
to  their  civility,  than  by  the  natives  themselves.  Then  I  dis 
covered  the  secret. 

The  unnatural  restraint  which  society  imposes  upon  these 
people  at  home,  forces  them  to  treat  their  more  fortunate 
brethren  with  a  servile  deference  which  is  repugnant  to  their 
feelings,  and  is  thrust  upon  them  by  the  dependent  circum 
stances  in  which  they  are  placed.  This  homage  to  rank  and 
education  is  not  sincere.  Hatred  and  envy  lie  rankling  at  their 
heart,  although  hidden  by  outward  obsequiousness.  Neces 
sity  compels  their  obedience ;  they  fawn,  and  cringe,  and 
flatter  the  wealth  on  which  they  depend  for  bread.  But  let 
them  once  emigrate,  the  clog  which  fettered  them  is  suddenly 
removed ;  they  are  free ;  and  the  dearest  privilege  of  this 
freedom  is  to  wreak  upon  their  superiors  the  long-locked-up 
hatred  of  their  hearts.  They  think  they  can  debase  you  to 
their  level  by  disallowing  all  your  claims  to  distinction ; 
while  they  hope  to  exalt  themselves  and  their  fellows  into 
ladies  and  gentlemen  by  sinking  you  back  to  the  only  title 
you  received  from  Nature — plain  "man"  and  "woman." 
Oh,  how  much  more  honourable  than  their  vulgar  preten 
sions  ! 

I  never  knew  the  real  dignity  of  these  simple  epithets  until 
they  were  insultingly  thrust  upon  us  by  the  working-classes 
of  Canada. 


166  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

But  from  this  folly  the  native-born  Canadian  is  exempt ;  it 
is  only  practised  by  the  low-born  Yankee,  or  the  Yankeefied 
British  peasantry  and  mechanics.  It  originates  in  the  enor 
mous  reaction  springing  out  of  a  sudden  emancipation  from 
a  state  of  utter  dependence  into  one  of  unrestrained  liberty. 
As  such,  I  not  only  excuse,  but  forgive  it,  for  the  principle 
is  founded  in  nature  ;  and,  however  disgusting  and  distasteful 
to  those  accustomed  to  different  treatment  from  their  infe 
riors,  it  is  better  than  a  hollow  profession  of  duty  and  attach 
ment  urged  upon  us  by  a  false  and  unnatural  position.  Still 
it  is  very  irksome  until  you  think  more  deeply  upon  it ;  and 
then  it  serves  to  amuse  rather  than  to  irritate. 

Seventeen  years  has  made  as  great  a  difference  in  the  state 
of  society  in  Canada,  as  it  has  in  its  commercial  and  political 
importance.  When  we  came  to  the  Canadas,  society  was 
composed  of  elements  which  did  not  always  amalgamate  in 
the  best  possible  manner. 

We  were  reckoned  no  addition  to  the  society  of  C . 

Authors  and  literary  people  they  held  in  supreme  detestation ; 
and  I  was  told  by  a  lady,  the  very  first  time  I  appeared  in 
company,  that  "  she  heard  that  I  wrote  books,  but  she  could 
tell  me  that  they  did  not  want  a  Mrs.  Trollope  in  Canada." 

I  had  not  then  read  Mrs.  Trollope's  work  on  America,  or 
I  should  have  comprehended  at  once  the  cause  of  her  indigna 
tion  ;  for  she  was  just  such  a  person  as  would  have  drawn 
forth  the  keen  satire  of  that  far-seeing  observer  of  the  absurd 
ities  of  our  nature,  whose  witty  exposure  of  American  affecta 
tion  has  done  more  towards  producing  a  reform  in  tliat  respect, 
than  would  have  resulted  from  a  thousand  grave  animadver 
sions  soberly  written. 

Another  of  my  self-constituted  advisers  informed  me,  with 
great  asperity  in  her  look  and  tone,  that  "  it  would  be  better 
for  me  to  lay  by  the  pen,  and  betake  myself  to  some  mora 


THE  CHARIVARI  167 

useful  employment ;  that  she  thanked  her  God  that  she  could 
make  a  shirt,  and  see  to  the  cleaning  of  her  house  !" 

These  remarks  were  perfectly  gratuitous,  and  called  forth 
by  no  observation  of  mine ;  for  I  tried  to  conceal  my  blue 
stockings  benoath  the  long  conventional  robes  of  the  tamest 
commonplace,  hoping  to  cover  the  faintest  tinge  of  the  objec 
tionable  colour.  I  had  spoken  to  neither  of  these  women  in 
my  life,  and  was  much  amused  by  their  remarks ;  particularly 
as  I  could  both  make  a  shirt,  and  attend  to  the  domestic 
arrangement  of  my  family,  as  well  as  either  of  them.  I 
verily  believe  that  they  expected  to  find  an  author  one  of  a 
distinct  species  from  themselves ;  that  they  imagined  the 
aforesaid  biped  should  neither  eat,  drink,  sleep,  nor  talk  like 
other  folks  ; — a  proud,  useless,  self-conceited,  affected  animal, 
that  deserved  nothing  but  kicks  and  buffets  from  the  rest  of 
mankind. 

Anxious  not  to  offend  them,  I  tried  to  avoid  all  literary 
subjects.  I  confined  my  conversation  to  topics  of  common 
interest ;  but  this  gave  greater  offence  than  the  most  ostenta 
tious  show  of  learning,  for  they  concluded  that  I  would  not 
talk  on  such  subjects,  because  I  thought  them  incapable  of 
understanding  me.  This  was  more  wounding  to  their  self-love 
than  the  most  arrogant  assumption  on  my  part ;  and  they  re 
garded  me  with  a  jealous,  envious,  stand-aloofishness,  that  was 
so  intolerable  that  I  gave  up  all  ideas  of  visiting  them.  I  was 
so  accustomed  to  hear  the  whispered  remark,  or  to  have  it 
retailed  to  me  by  others,  "  Oh,  yes,  she  can  write,  but  she  can 
do  nothing  else,"  that  I  was  made  more  diligent  in  cultivating 
every  branch  of  domestic  usefulness;  so  that  these  ill-natured 
sarcasms  ultimately  led  to  my  acquiring  a  great  mass  of  most 
useful  practical  knowledge.  Yet — such  is  the  contradiction 
inherent  in  our  poor  fallen  nature — these  people  were  more 
annoyed  by  my  proficiency  in  the  common  labours  of  a  house- 


168  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

hold,  than  they  would  have  been  by  any  displays  of  my  un 
fortunate  authorship.  Never  was  the  fable  of  the  old  man 
and  his  ass  so  truly  verified. 

There  is  very  little  of  the  social,  friendly  visiting  among  the 
Canadians  which  constitutes  the  great  charm  of  home.  Their 
hospitality  is  entirely  reserved  for  those  monster  meetings  in 
which  they  vie  with  each  other  in  displaying  fine  clothes  and 
costly  furniture.  As  these  large  parties  are  very  expensive, 
few  families  can  afford  to  give  more  than  one  during  the  visit 
ing  season,  which  is  almost  exclusively  confined  to  the  winter. 
The  great  gun  once  fired,  you  meet  no  more  at  the  same  house 
around  the  social  board  until  the  ensuing  year,  and  would 
scarcely  know  that  you  had  a  neighbour,  were  it  not  for  a 
formal  morning  call  made  now  and  then,  just  to  remind  you 
that  such  individuals  are  in  the  land  of  the  living,  and  still 
exist  in  your  near  vicinity. 

I  am  speaking  of  visiting  in  the  towns  and  villages.  The 
manners  and  habits  of  the  European  settlers  in  the  country 
are  far  more  simple  and  natural,  and  their  hospitality  more 
genuine  and  sincere.  They  have  not  been  sophisticated  by 
the  hard,  worldly  wisdom  of  a  Canadian  town,  and  still  retain 
a  warm  remembrance  of  the  kindly  humanities  of  home. 

Among  the  women,  a  love  of  dress  exceeds  all  other  pas 
sions.  In  public  they  dress  in  silks  and  satins,  and  wear  the 
most  expensive  ornaments,  and  they  display  considerable 
taste  in  the  arrangement  and  choice  of  colours.  The  wife  of 
a  man  in  moderate  circumstances,  whose  income  does  not  ex 
ceed  two  or  three  hundred  pounds  a-year,  does  not  hesitate  in 
expending  ten  or  fifteen  pounds  upon  one  article  of  outside 
finery,  while  often  her  inner  garments  are  not  worth  as  many 
sous;  thus  sacrificing  to  outward  show  all  the  real  comforts 
of  life.  The  aristocracy  of  wealth  is  bad  enough ;  but  the 
aristocracy  of  dress  is  perfectly  contemptible.  Could  Raphael 


THE  CHARIVARI.  169 

visit  Canada  in  rags,  he  would  be  nothing  in  their  eyes  beyond 
a  common  sign-painter. 

Great  and  manifold,  even  to  the  ruin  of  families,  are  the 
evils  arising  from  this  inordinate  love  for  dress.  They  derive 
their  fashions  from  the  French  and  the  Americans — seldom 
from  the  English,  whom  they  far  surpass  hi  the  neatness  and 
elegance  of  their  costume. 

The  Canadian  women,  while  they  retain  the  bloom  and 
freshness  of  youth,  are  exceedingly  pretty  ;  but  these  charms 
soon  fade,  owing,  perhaps,  to  the  fierce  extremes  of  their  cli 
mate,  or  the  withering  effect  of  the  dry,  metallic  air  of  stoves, 
and  their  going  too  early  into  company  and  being  exposed, 
while  yet  children,  to  the  noxious  influence  of  late  hours,  and 
the  sudden  change  from  heated  rooms  to  the  cold,  biting,  bitter 
whiter  blast. 

Though  small  of  stature,  they  are  generally  well  and  sym 
metrically  formed,  and  possess  a  graceful,  easy  carriage.  The 
early  age  at  which  they  marry,  and  are  introduced  into  so 
ciety,  takes  from  them  all  awkwardness  and  restraint.  A  girl 
of  fourteen  can  enter  a  crowded  ball-room  with  as  much  self- 
possession,  and  converse  with  as  much  confidence,  as  a  matron 
of  forty.  The  blush  of  timidity  and  diffidence  is,  indeed,  rare 
upon  the  cheek  of  a  Canadian  beauty.  Their  education  is  so 
limited  and  confined  to  so  few  accomplishments,  and  these  not 
very  perfectly  taught,  that  their  conversation  seldom  goes  be 
yond  a  particular  discussion  on  their  own  dress,  or  that  of 
their  neighbours,  their  houses,  furniture,  and  servants,  some 
times  interlarded  with  a  little  harmless  gos$ip,  which,  however, 
tells  keenly  upon  the  characters  of  their  dear  friends, 

Yet  they  have  abilities,  excellent  practical  abilities,  which, 
with  a  little  mental  culture,  would  render  them  intellectual 
and  charming  companions.  At  present,  too  many  of  these 
truly  layely  girls  remind  one  of  choice  flowers  half  buried  in 

8 


170  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  EUSH. 

weeds.  Music  and  dancing  are  their  chief  accomplishments. 
In  the  fbrmer  they  seldom  excel.  Though  possessing  an  ex 
cellent  general  taste  for  music,  it  is  seldom  in  their  power  to 
bestow  upon  its  study  the  time  which  is  required  to  make 
a  really  good  musician.  They  are  admirable  proficients  in  the 
other  art,  which  they  acquire  readily,  with  the  least  instruc 
tion,  often  without  any  instruction  at  all,  beyond  that  which  is 
given  almost  intuitively  by  a  good  ear  for  time,  and  a  quick 
perception  of  the  harmony  of  motion. 

The  waltz  is  their  favourite  dance,  in  which  old  and  young 
join  with  the  greatest  avidity ;  it  is  not  unusual  to  see  parents 
and  their  grown-up  children  dancing  in  the  same  set  in  a 
public  ball-room.  Their  taste  in  music  is  not  for  the  sen 
timental  ;  they  prefer  the  light,  lively  tunes  of  the  Virginian 
minstrels  to  the  most  impassioned  strains  of  Bellini. 

On  entering  one  of  the  public  ball-rooms,  a  stranger  would 
be  delighted  with  such  a  display  of  pretty  faces  and  neat 
figures.  I  have  hardly  ever  seen  a  really  plain  Canadian 
girl  in  her  teens;  and  a  downright  ugly  one  is  almost  un 
known. 

The  high  cheek-bones,  wide  mouth,  and  turned-up  nose 
of  the  Saxon  race,  so  common  among  the  lower  classes  in 
Britain,  are  here  succeeded  in  the  next  generation,  by  the 
small  oval  face,  straight  nose,  and  beautifully-cut  mouth  of 
the  American;  while  the  glowing  tint  of  the  Albion  rose 
pales  beneath  the  withering  influence  of  late  hours  and  stove- 
heat. 

They  are  naturally  a  fine  people,  and  possess  capabilities 
and  talents,  which,  when  improved  by  cultivation,  will  render 
them  second  to  no  people  in  the  world ;  and  that  period  is 
not  far  distant. 

Idiots  and  mad  people  are  so  seldom  met  with  among 
natives  of  the  colony,  that  not  one  of  this  description  of  un- 


THE  CHAEIVARL  171 

fortunates  has  ever  come  under  my  own  immediate  observa 
tion. 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  the  summer  of  1833,  which 
had  been  unusually  cold  and  wet  for  Canada,  while  Moodie 
was  absent  at  D ,  inspecting  a  portion  of  his  govern 
ment  grant  of  land,  that  I  was  startled  one  night,  just  before 
retiring  to  rest,  by  the  sudden  firing  of  guns  in  our  near  vi 
cinity,  accompanied  by  shouts  and  yells,  the  braying  of  homs, 
the  beating  of  drums,  and  the  barking  of  all  the  dogs  in  the 
neighbourhood.  I  never  heard  a  more  stunning  uproar  of 
discordant  and  hideous  sounds. 

What  could  it  all  mean  ]  The  maid-servant,  as  much 
alarmed  as  myself,  opene^i  the  door  and  listened. 

"  The  goodness  defend  us !"  she  exclaimed,  quickly  closing 
it,  and  drawing  a  bolt  seldom  used.  "  We  shall  be  murdered. 
The  Yankees  must  have  taken  Canada,  and  are  marching 
hither." 

"  Nonsense !  that  cannot  be  it.  Besides,  they  would  never 
leave  the  main  road  to  attack  a  poor  place  like  this.  Yet  the 
noise  is  very  near.  Hark !  they  are  firing  again.  Bring 
me  the  hammer  and  some  nails,  and  let  us  secure  the  win 
dows." 

The  next  moment  I  laughed  at  my  folly  in  attempting  to 
secure  a  log  hut,  when  the  application  of  a  match  to  its  rotten 
walls  would  consume  it  in  a  few  minutes.  Still,  as  the  noise 
increased,  I  was  really  frightened.  My  servant,  who  was 
Irish  (for  my  Scotch  girl,  Bell,  had  taken  to  herself  a  hus 
band,  and  I  had  been  obliged  to  hire  another  in  her  place,  wrho 
had  been  only  a  few  days  in  the  country),  began  to  cry  and 
wring  her  hands,  and  lament  her  hard  fate  in  coming  to  Canada. 
Just  at  this  critical  moment,  when  we  were  both  self-con 
victed  of  an  arrant  cowardice,  which  would  have  shamed  a 
Canadian  child  of  six  years  old,  Mrs.  O tapped  at  the 


172  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

door,  and  although  generally  a  most  unwelcome  visitor,  from 
her  gossiping,  mischievous  propensities,  I  gladly  let  her  in. 

"  Do  tell  me,"  I  cried,  "  the  meaning  of  this  strange  up 
roar?" 

"  Oh,  'tis  nothing,"  she  replied,  laughing ;  "  you  and  Mary 
look  as  white  as  a  sheet ;  but  you  need  not  be  alarmed.  A 
set  of  wild  fellows  have  met  to  charivari  Old  Satan,  who  has 
married  his  fourth  wife  to-night,  a  young  gal  of  sixteen.  I 
should  not  wonder  if  some  mischief  happens  among  them,  for 
they  are  a  bad  set,  made  up  of  all  the  idle  loafers  about  Port 
H and  C— ." 

"What  is  a  charivari?"  said  I.  "Do,  pray,  enlighten 
me." 

"  Have  you  been  nine  months  in  Canada,  and  ask  that  ques 
tion  1  Why,  I  thought  you  knew  every  thing !  Well,  I  will 
tell  you  what  it  is.  The  charivari  is  a  custom  that  the  Cana 
dians  got  from  the  French,  in  the  Lower  Province,  and  a 
queer  custom  it  is.  When  an  old  man  marries  a  young  wife, 
or  an  old  woman  a  young  husband,  or  two  old  people,  who 
ought  to  be  thinking  of  their  graves,  enter  for  the  second  or 
third  time  into  the  holy  estate  of  wedlock,  as  the  priest  calls 
it,  all  the  idle  young  fellows  in  the  neighbourhood  meet  to 
gether  to  charivari  them.  For  this  purpose  they  disguise 
themselves,  blackening  their  faces,  putting  their  clothes  on 
hind  part  before,  and  wearing  horrible  masks,  with  grotesque 
caps  on  their  heads,  adorned  with  cocks'  feathers  and  bells. 
They  then  form  in  a  regular  body,  and  proceed  to  the  bride 
groom's  house,  to  the  sound  of  tin  kettles,  horns,  and 
drums,  cracked  fiddles,  and  all  the  discordant  instruments 
they  can  collect  together.  Thus  equipped,  they  surround 
the  house  where  the  wedding  is  held,  just  at  the  hour  when  the 
happy  couple  are  supposed  to  be  about  to  retire  to  rest — beat 
ing  upon  the  door  with  clubs  and  staves  and  demanding  of  the 


THE  CHARIVARI.  173 

bridegroom  admittance  to  drink  the  bride's  health,  or  in  lieu 
thereof  to  receive  a  certain  sum  of  money  to  treat  the  band 
at  the  nearest  tavern. 

"  If  the  bridegroom  refuses  to  appear  and  grant  their 
request,  they  commence  the  horrible  din  you  hear,  firing  guns 
charged  with  peas  against  the  doors  and  windows,  rattling 
old  pots  and  kettles,  and  abusing  him  for  his  stinginess  in  no 
measured  terms.  Sometimes  they  break  open  the  doors,  and 
seize  upon  the  bridegroom ;  he  may  esteem  himself  a  very  fortu 
nate  man,  under  such  circumstances,  if  he  escapes  being  ridden 
on  a  rail,  tarred  and  feathered,  and  otherwise  maltreated.  I 
have  known  many  fatal  accidents  arise  out  of  an  imprudent  re 
fusal  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  assailants.  People  have  even 
lost  their  lives  in  the  fray  ;  and  I  think  the  government  should 
interfere,  and  put  down  these  riotous  meetings.  Surely,  it  is 
very  hard,  that  an  old  man  cannot  marry  a  young  gal,  if  she  is 
willing  to  take  him,  without  asking  the  leave  of  such  a  rabble 
as  that.  What  right  have  they  to  interfere  with  his  private 
affairs  ?" 

"  What,  indeed?"  said  I,  feeling  a  truly  British  indignation, 
at  such  a  lawless  infringement  upon  the  natural  rights  of  man. 

"  I  remember,"  continued  Mrs.  O ,  who  had  got  fairly 

started  upon  a  favourite  subject,  "  a  scene  of  this  kind,  that  was 

acted  two  years  ago,  at ,  when  old  Mr.  P took  his  third 

wife.  lie  was  a  very  rich  storekeeper,  and  had  made  during 
the  war  a  great  deal  of  money.  He  felt  lonely  in  his  old  age, 
and  married  a  young,  handsome  widow,  to  enliven  his  house. 
The  lads  in  the  village  were  determined  to  make  him  pay  for 

his  frolic.  This  got  wind,  and  Mr.  P was  advised  to 

spend  the  honeymoon  in  Toronto  ;  but  he  only  laughed,  and 
said  that  '  he  was  not  going  to  be  frightened  from  his  comfort 
able  home  by  the  threats  of  a  few  wrild  boys.'  In  the  morning, 
he  was  married  at  the  church,  and  spent  the  day  at  home, 


174  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

where  he  entertained  a  large  party  of  his  own  and  the  bride's 
friends.  During  the  evening,  all  the  idle  chaps  in  the  town 
collected  about  the  house,  headed  by  a  mad  young  bookseller, 
who  had  offered  himself  for  their  captain,  and,  in  the  usual 
forms,  demanded  a  sight  of  the  bride,  and  liquor  to  drink  her 
health.  They  were  very  good-naturedly  received  by  Mr. 

P ,  who  sent  a  friend  down  to  them  to  bid  them  welcome, 

and  to  inquire  on  what  terms  they  would  consent  to  let  him 
off,  and  disperse. 

"  The  captain  of  the  band  demanded  sixty  pounds,  as  he, 
Mr.  P ,  could  well  afford  to  pay  it. 

" '  That's  too  much,  my  fine  fellows !'  cried  Mr.  P 

from  the  open  window.  Say  twenty-five,  and  I  will  send  you 
down  a  cheque  upon  the  Bank  of  Montreal  for  the  money.' 

"  '  Thirty !  thirty  !  thirty  !  old  boy  !'  roared  a  hundred 
voices.  '  Your  wife's  worth  that.  Down  with  the  cash,  and 
we  will  give  you  three  cheers,  and  three  times  three  for  the 
bride,  and  leave  ,you  to  sleep  in  peace.  If  you  hang  back,  we 
will  raise  such  a  'larum  about  your  ears  that  you  sha'n't  know 
that  your  wife's  your  own  for  a  month  to  come !' 

" '  I'll  give  you  twenty-five,'  remonstrated  the  bridegroom, 
not  the  least  alarmed  at  their  threats,  and  laughing  all  the 
time  in  his  sleeve. 

" '  Thirty ;  not  one  copper  less !'  Here  they  gave  him 
such  a  salute  of  diabolical  sounds  that  he  ran  from  the  win 
dow  with  his  hands  to  his  ears,  and  his  friend  came  down 
stairs  to  the  verandah,  and  gave  them  the  sum  they  required. 
They  did  not  expect  that  the  old  man  would  have  been  so 
liberal,  and  they  gave  him  the  '  Hip,  hip,  hip,  hurrah !'  in  fine 
style,  and  marched  off  to  finish  the  night  and  spend  the  money 
at  the  tavern." 

"And  do  people  allow  themselves  to  be  bullied  out  of 
their  property  by  such  ruffians  f 


THE  CHARIVARI.  175 

"  Ah,  my  dear !  'tis  the  custom  of  the  country,  and  'tis  not 
so  easy  to  put  it  down.  But  I  can  tell  you  that  a  charivari  is 
not  always  a  joke. 

"  There  was  another  affair  that  happened,  just  before  you 
came  to  the  place,  that  occasioned  no  small  talk  in  the  neigh 
bourhood  ;  and  well  it  might,  for  it  was  a  most  disgraceful 
piece  of  business,  and  attended  with  very  serious  conse 
quences.  Some  of  the  charivari  party  had  to  fly,  or  they 
might  have  ended  their  days  in  the  penitentiary. 

"  There  was  a  runaway  nigger  from  the  States  came  to  the 
village,  and  set  up  a  barber's  poll,  and  settled  among  us.  I 
am  no  friend  to  the  blacks ;  but  really  Tom  Smith  was  such 
a  quiet,  good-natured  fellow,  and  so  civil  and  obliging,  that  he 
soon  got  a  good  business.  He  was  clever,  too,  and  cleaned 
old  clothes  until  they  looked  almost  as  good  as  new.  Well, 
after  a  time  he  persuaded  a  white  girl  to  marry  him.  She 
was  not  a  bad-looking  Irishwoman,  and  I  can't  think  what 
bewitched  the  creature  to  take  him. 

"  Her  marriage  with  the  black  man  created  a  great  sensa 
tion  in  the  town.  All  the  young  fellows  were  indignant  at 
his  presumption  and  her  folly,  and  they  determined  to  give 
them  the  charivari  in  fine  style,  and  punish  them  both  for  the 
insult  they  had  put  upon  the  place. 

"  Some  of  the  young  gentlemen  in  the  town  joined  in  the 
frolic.  They  went  so  far  as  to  enter  the  house,  drag  the  poor 
nigger  from  his  bed,  and,  in  spite  of  his  shrieks  for  mercy, 
they  hurried  him  out  into  the  cold  air — for  it  was  winter — 
and  almost  naked  as  he  was,  rode  him  upon  a  rail,  and  so  ill- 
treated  him  that  he  died  under  their  hands. 

"  They  left  the  body,  when  they  found  wrhat  had  happened, 
and  fled.  The  ringleaders  escaped  across  the  lake  to  the 
other  side ;  and  those  who  remained  could  not  be  sufficiently 
identified  to  bring  them  to  trial.  The  affair  was  hushed  up  j 


170  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

but  it  gave  great  uneasiness  to  several  respectable  families 
whose  sons  were  in  the  scrape." 

"  Good  heavens  !  are  such  things  permitted  in  a  Chris 
tian  country  1  But  scenes  like  these  must  be  of  rare  occur 
rence  ?" 

"  They  are  more  common  than  you  imagine.  A  man  was 
killed  up  at  W the  other  day,  and  two  others  danger 
ously  wounded,  at  a  charivari.  The  bridegroom  was  a  man 
in  middle  life,  a  desperately  resolute  and  passionate  man,  and 
he  swore  that  if  such  riff-raff  dared  to  interfere  with  him,  he 
would  shoot  at  them  with  as  little  compunction  as  he  would 
at  so  many  crows.  His  threats  only  increased  the  mischievous 
determination  of  the  mob  to  torment  him  ;  and  when  he  re 
fused  to  admit  their  deputation,  or  even  to  give  them  a  portion 
of  the  wedding  cheer,  they  determined  to  frighten  him  into 
compliance  by  firing  several  guns,  loaded  with  peas,  at  his 
door.  Their  salute  was  returned  from  the  chamber  window, 
by  the  discharge  of  a  double-barrelled  gun,  loaded  with  buck 
shot.  The  crowd  gave  back  with  a  tremendous  yell.  Their 
leader  was  shot  through  the  heart,  and  two  of  the  foremost  in 
the  scuffle  dangerously  wounded.  They  vowed  they  would 
set  fire  to  the  house,  but  the  bridegroom  boldly  stepped  to 
the  window,  and  told  them  to  try  it,  and  before  they  could 
light  a  torch  he  would  fire  among  them  again,  as  his  gun  -was 
reloaded,  and  he  would  discharge  it  at  them  as  long  as  one  of 
them  dared  to  remain  on  his  premises. 

-  "  They  cleared  off;  but  though  Mr.  A was  not  pun 
ished  for  the  accident,  as  it  was  called,  he  became  a  marked 
man,  and  lately  left  the  colony,  to  settle  in  the  United  States. 
"  Why,  Mrs.  Moodie,  you  look  quite  serious.  I  can,  how 
ever,  tell  you  a  less  dismal  tale.  A  charivari  would  seldom 
be  attended  with  bad  consequences  if  people  would  take  it  as 
a  joke,  and  join  in  the  spree." 


THE  CHARIVARI.  177 

"  A  very  dignified  proceeding,  for  a  bride  and  bridegroom 
to  make  themselves  the  laughing-stock  of  such  people  !" 

"  Oh,  but  custom  reconciles  us  to  every  thing ;  and  'tis 
better  to  give  up  a  little  of  our  pride  than  endanger  the  lives 
of  our  fellow-creatures.  I  have  been  told  a  story  of  a  lady  in 
the  Lower  Province,  who  took  for  her  second  husband  a 
young  fellow,  who,  as  far  as  his  age  was  concerned,  might 
have  been  her  son.  The  mob  surrounded  her  house  at  night, 
carrying  her  effigy  in  an  open  coffin,  supported  by  six  young 
lads,  with  white  favours  in  their  hats ;  and  they  buried  the  poor 
bride,  amid  shouts  of  laughter,  and  the  usual  accompaniments, 
just  opposite  her  drawing-room  windows.  The  widow  was 
highly  amused  by  the  whole  of  their  proceedings,  but  she 
wisely  let  them  have  their  own  way.  She  lived  in  a  strong 
stone  house,  and  she  barred  the  doors,  and  closed  the  iron 
shutters,  and  set  them  at  defiance. 

"  '  As  long  as  she  enjoyed  her  health,'  she  said,  '  they  were 
welcome  to  bury  her  in  effigy  as  often  as  they  pleased ; 
she  was  really  glad  to  be  able  to  afford  amusement  to  so 
many  people.' 

"  Night  after  night,  during  the  whole  of  that  winter,  the 
same  party  beset  her  house  with  their  diabolical  music ;  but 
she  only  laughed  at  them. 

"  The  leader  of  the  mob  was  a  young  lawyer  from  these 
parts,  a  sad,  mischievous  fellow ;  the  widow  became  aware  of 
this,  and  she  invited  him  one  evening  to  take  tea  with  a  small 
party  at  her  house.  He  accepted  the  invitation,  was  charmed 
with  her  hearty  and  hospitable  welcome,  and  soon  found  him 
self  quite  at  home ;  but  only  think  how  ashamed  he  must  have 
felt,  when  the  same  'larum  commenced,  at  the  usual  hour,  in 
front  of  the  lady's  house ! 

"'Oh,'  said  Mrs.  R ,  smiling  to  her  husband,  'here 

come  our  friends.  Really,  Mr.  K ,  they  amuse  us  so 

8* 


178  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BVSH. 

much  of  an  evening  that  I  should  feel  quite  dull  without 
them.' 

"  From  that  hour  tne  charivari  ceased,  and  the  old  lady 
was  left  to  enjoy  the  society  of  her  young  husband  in  quiet. 

"  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  M ,  that  the  charivari  often  deters 

old  people  from  making  disgraceful  marriages,  so  that  it  is 
not  wholly  without  its  use." 

A  few  days  after  the  charivari  affair,  Mrs.  D stepped 

in  to  see  me.  She  was  an  American ;  a  very  respectable  old 
lady,  who  resided  in  a  handsome  frame  house  on  the  main 
road.  I  was  at  dinner,  the  servant-girl,  in  the  mean  while, 

nursing  my  child  at  a  distance.     Mrs.  D sat  looking  at 

me  very  seriously  until  I  concluded  my  meal,  her  dinner  hav 
ing  been  accomplished  several  hours  before.  When  I  had 
finished,  the  girl  gave  me  the  child,  and  then  removed  the  din 
ner  service  into  an  outer  room. 

"  You  don't  eat  with  your  helps,"  said  my  visitor.  "  Is 
not  that  something  like  pride  1" 

"  It  is  custom,"  said  I ;  "we  were  not  used  to  do  so  at 
home,  and  I  think  that  keeping  a  separate  table  is  more  com 
fortable  for  both  parties." 

"  Are  you  not  both  of  the  same  flesh  and  blood  1  The 
rich  and  the  poor  meet  together,  and  the  Lord  is  the  maker 
of  them  all." 

"  True.  Your  quotation  is  just,  and  I  assent  to  it  with  all 
my  heart.  There  is  no  difference  in  the  flesh  and  blood  ;  but 
education  makes  a  difference  in  the  mind  and  manners,  and, 
till  these  can  assimilate,  it  is  better  to  keep  apart." 

.  "  Ah !  you  are  not  a  good  Christian,  Mrs.  Moodie.  The 
Lord  thought  more  of  the  poor  than  He  did  of  the  rich,  and 
He  obtained  more  followers  from  among  them.  Now,  we 
always  take  our  meals  with  our  people." 

Presently  after,  while  talking  over  the  affairs  of  our  house- 


:        THE  CHARIVARI.  179 

holds,  I  happened  to  say  that  the  cow  we  had  bought  of  Mol- 
lineux  had  turned  out  extremely  well,  and  gave  a  great  deal 
of  milk. 

"  That  man  lived  with  us  several  years,"  she  said ;  "  he 

was  an  excellent  servant,  and  D paid  him  his  wages  in 

land.  The  farm  that  he  now  occupies  formed  a  part  of  our 
New  England  grant.  But,  for  all  his  good  conduct,  I  never 
could  abide  him,  for  being  a  black" 

"  Indeed !    Is  he  not  the  same  flesh  and  blood  as  the  rest?'* 

"  The  colour  rose  into  Mrs.  D 's  sallow  face,  and  she 

answered,  with  much  warmth, 

"  What !  do  you  mean  to  compare  me  with  a  nigger  $" 

"  Not  exactly.  But,  after  all,  the  colour  makes  the  only 
difference  between  him  and  uneducated  men  of  the  same 
class." 

"  Mrs.  Moodie  !"  she  exclaimed,  holding  up  her  hands  in 
pious  horror,  "  they  are  the  children  of  the  devil !  God  never 
condescended  to  make  a  nigger." 

"  Such  an  idea  is  an  impeachment  of  the  power  and  maj 
esty  of  the  Almighty.  How  can  you  believe  in  such  an  igno 
rant  fable  ?" 

"  Well,  then,"  said  my  monitress,  in  high  dudgeon,  "  if  the 
devil  did  not  make  them,  they  are  descended  from  Cain,'* 

"  But  all  Cain's  posterity  perished  in  the  flood." 

My  visitor  was  puzzled. 

"  The  African  race,  it  is  generally  believed,  are  the  de 
scendants  of  Ham,  and  to  many  of  their  tribes  the  curse  pro 
nounced  against  him  seems  to  cling.  To  be  thfe  servant  of  ser 
vants  is  bad  enough,  without  our  making  their  condition  worse 
by  our  cruel  persecutions.  Christ  came  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost ;  and  in  proof  of  this  inestimable  promise, 
he  did  not  reject  the  Ethiopian  eunuch  who  was  baptized  by 
Philip,  and  who  was,  doubtless,  as  black  as  the  rest  of  his 


180  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

people.  Do  you  not  admit  Mollineux  to  your  table  with  your 
other  helps  f 

"  Good  God  !  do  you  think  that  I  would  sit  down  at  the 
same  table  with  a  nigger  ?  My  helps  would  leave  the  house 
if  I  dared  to  put  such  an  affront  upon  them.  Sit  down  with  a 
dirty  black,  indeed !" 

"Do  you  think,  Mrs.  D ,  that  there  will  be  any 

negroes  in  heaven  f ' 

"Certainly  not,  or  I,  for  one,  would  never  wish  to  go 
there ;"  and  out  of  the  house  she  sallied  in  high  disdain. 

Yet  this  was  the  woman  who  had  given  me  such  a  plausi 
ble  lecture  on  pride.  Alas,  for  our  fallen  nature!  Which  is 
more  subversive  of  peace  and  Christian  fellowship — ignorance 
of  our  own  characters,  or  of  the  characters  of  others  ? 

Our  departure  for  the  woods  became  now  a  frequent 
theme  of  conversation.  My  husband  had  just  returned  from 
an  exploring  expedition  to  the  backwoods,  and  was  delighted 
with  the  prospect  of  removing  thither.  The  only  thing  I 
listened  to  in  their  praise,  with  any  degree  of  interest,  was  a 
lively  little  song,  which  he  had  written  during  his  brief  sojourn 
at  Douro. 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  181 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    LAND-JOBBER. 

(AN   INTKBMJEDIATK   CHAPTER,   BY   J.    W.   D.   MOODIK.) 

I  HAD  a  letter  of  introduction  to  a  gentleman  of  large 
property,  at  C  •  •  ,  who,  knowing  that  I  wished  to  pur 
chase  a  farm,  very  kindly  drove  me  out  to  several  lots  of  land 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood.  He  showed  me  seven  or 
eight  very  eligible  lots  of  cleared  land,  some  of  them  with 
good  houses  and  orchards ;  but  some  how  or  other,  on  inquiry, 
I  found  they  all  belonged  to  himself,  and,  moreover,  the  prices 
were  beyond  my  limited  means.  For  one  farm  he  asked 
£1000;  for  another,  £1500,  and  so  on.  After  inquiring  in 
other  quarters,  I  saw  I  had  no  chance  of  getting  a  farm  in 
that  neighbourhood  for  the  price  I  could  afford  to  pay  down, 
which  was  only  about  £300.  After  satisfying  myself  as  to 
this  fact,  I  thought  it  the  wiser  course  at  once  to  undeceive 
my  very  obliging  friend,  whose  attentions  were  obviously 
nicely  adjusted  to  the  estimate  he  had  formed  in  his  own 
mind  of  my  pecuniary  resources. 

On  communicating  this  discouraging  fact,  my  friend's 
countenance  instantly  assumed  a  cold  and  stony  expression, 
and  1  almost  expected  that  he  would  have  stopped  his  horses 
and  set  me  down,  to  walk  with  other  poor  men.  As  may 
well  be  supposed,  I  was  never  afterwards  honoured  with  a 
seat  in  his  carriage.  He  saw  just  what  I  was  worth,  and  1 
saw  what  his  friendship  was  worth  j  and  thus  our  brief  ac 
quaintance  terminated. 


182  KOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

Having  thus  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag,  when  I  might,  ac 
cording  to  the  usual  way  of  the  world,  have  sported  for  a  while 
in  borrowed  plumage,  and  rejoiced  in  the  reputation  of  being 
in  more  prosperous  circumstances  without  fear  of  detection,  I 
determined  to  pursue  the  same  course,  and  make  use  of  the 
little  insight  I  had  obtained  into  the  ways  of  the  land-jobbers 
of  Canada,  to  procure  a  cleared  farm  on  more  reasonable 
terms. 

It  is  not  uncommon  for  the  land  speculators  to  sell  a  farm 
to  a  respectable  settler  at  an  unusually  low  price,  in  order  to 
give  a  character  to  a  neighbourhood  where  they  hold  other 
lands,  and  thus  to  use  him  as  a  decoy  duck  for  friends  or 
countrymen. 

There  was  a  very  noted  character  at  C ,  Mr.  Q , 

a  great  land-jobber,  who  did  a  large  business  in  this  way  on 
his  own  account,  besides  getting  through  a  great  deal  of  dirty 
work  for  other  more  respectable  speculators,  who  did  not 
wish  to  drink  at  taverns  and  appear  personally  in  such  mat 
ters.  To  Mr.  Q I  applied,  and  effected  a  purchase  of  a 

farm  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  acres,  about  fifty  of  which  were 
cleared,  for  £300,  as  I  shall  mention  more  particularly  in  the 
sequel.  In  the  mean  time,  the  character  of  this  distinguished 
individual  was — for  he  has  long  gone  to  give  an  account  of  his 
misdeeds  in  the  other  world — so  remarkable,  that  I  must  en 
deavour  to  describe  it  for  the  edification  of  the  reader.  Q 

kept  a  shop,  or  store,  in  C ;  but  he  left  the  principal 

management  of  this  establishment  to  his  clerks ;  while,  taking 
advantage  of  the  influx  of  emigrants,  he  pursued,  with  un 
rivalled  success,  the  profitable  business  of  land-jobbing. 

In  his  store,  before  taking  to  this  business,  he  had  been 
accustomed  for  many  years  to  retail  goods  to  the  farmers  at 
high  prices,  on  the  usual  long  credit  system.  He  had  thus 
got  a  number  of  farmers  deeply  in  his  debt,  and,  in  many 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  1$3 

cases,  in  preference  to  suing  them,  had  taken  mortgages  on 
their  farms.  By  this  means,  instead  of  merely  recovering  the 
money  owing  to  him  by  the  usual  process  of  law,  he  was  en 
abled,  by  threatening  to  foreclose  the  mortgages,  to  compel 
them  to  sell  their  farms  nearly  on  his  own  terms,  whenever 
an  opportunity  occurred  to  re-sell  them  advantageously  to 
new  comers.  Thus,  besides  making  thirty  or  forty  per  cent, 
on  his  goods,  he  often  realized  more  than  a  hundred  per  cent, 
on  his  land  speculations. 

In  a  new  country,  where  there  is  no  great  competition  in 
mercantile  business,  and  money  is  scarce,  the  power  and 

profits  of  store  keepers  are  very  great.  Mr.  Q was  one 

of  the  most  grasping  of  this  class.  His  heart  was  case-hard 
ened,  and  his  conscience  like  gum-elastic;  it  would  readily 
stretch,  on  the  shortest  notice,  to  any  required  extent,  while 
his  well-tutored  countenance  betrayed  no  indication  of  what 
was  passing  in  his  mind.  But  I  must  not  forget  to  give  a 
sketch  of  the  appearance,  or  outward  man,  of  this  highly- 
gifted  individual. 

He  was  about  the  middle  size,  thin  and  limber,  and  some 
what  loose  in  his  lower  joints,  like  most  of  the  native  Canadians 
and  Yankees.  He  had  a  slight  stoop  in  his  shoulders,  and  his 
long,  thin  neck  was  continually  stretched  out  before  him, 
while  his  restless  little  cunning  eyes  were  roaming  about  in 
search  of  prey.  His  face,  when  well  watched,  was  an  index 
to  his  selfish  and  unfeeling  soul.  Complexion  he  had  none, 
except  that  sempiternally  enduring  red-and-tawny  mixture 
which  is  acquired  by  exposure  and  hard  drinking.  His  cheeks 
and  the  corners  of  his  eyes  were  marked  by  an  infinity  of 
curved  lines,  and,  like  most  avaricious  and  deceitful  men,  he 
had  a  long,  crooked  chin,  and  that  peculiar  prominent  and 
slightly  aquiline  nose,  which,  by  people  observant  of  such 
indications,  has  been  called  "the  rogue's  nose."  But  how 


184  ROUGHING  IT  IX  THE  BUSH. 

shall  I  describe  his  eye — that  small  hole  through  -which  you 
can  see  an  honest  man's  heart  1  Q— 's  eye  was  like  no 
other  eye  I  had  ever  seen.  His  face  and  mouth  could  assume 
a  good-natured  expression,  and  smile ;  but  his  eye  was  still 
the  same — it  never  smiled,  but  remained  cold,  hard,  dry,  and 
inscrutable.  If  it  had  any  expression  at  all,  it  was  an  unhappy 
one.  Such  were  the  impressions  created  by  his  appearance, 
when  the  observer  was  unobserved  by  him ;  for  he  had  the 
art  of  concealing  the  \vorst  traits  of  his  character  in  an  ex 
traordinary  degree,  and  when  he  suspected  that  the  curious 
hieroglyphics  which  Nature  had  stamped  on  his  visage  were 
too  closely  scanned,  he  knew  well  how  to  divert  the  inves 
tigator's  attention  to  some  other  object. 

He  was  a  humorist,  besides,  in  his  way,  because  he  found 
that  jokes  and  fun  admirably  served  his  turn.  They  helped 
to  throw  people  off  their  guard,  and  to  conceal  his  hang-dog 
look. 

He  had  a  hard  head,  as  well  as  a  hard  heart,  and  could 
stand  any  quantity  of  drink.  His  drinking,  however,  like 
every  thing  else  about  him,  had  a  motive ;  and,  instead  of 
trying  to  appear  sober,  like  other  drunkards,  he  rather  wished 
to  appear  a  little  elevated.  In  addition  to  his  other  acquire 
ments,  Q was  a  most  accomplished  gambler.  In  short, 

no  virtuous  man,  who  employs  every  passing  moment  of  his 
short  life  in  doing  good  to  his  fellow-creatures,  could  be  more 
devoted  and  energetic  in  his  endeavours  to  serve  God  and 

mankind,  than  Q was  in  his  endeavours  to  ease  them  of 

their  spare  cash. 

He  possessed  a  great  deal  of  that  free-and-easy  address  and 
tact  which  distinguish  the  Canadians  ;  and,  in  addition  to  the 
current  coin  of  vulgar  flattery  which  is  found  so  useful  in  all 
countries,  his  quick  eye  could  discover  the  high-minded  gen 
tleman  by  a  kind  of  instinct,  which  did  not  seem  quite  natural 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  185 

to  his  sordid  character ;  and,  knowing  that  such  men  are  not 
to  be  taken  by  vulgar  adulation,  he  could  address  them  with 
deferential  respect ;  against  which  no  minds  are  entirely 
secure.  Thus  he  wriggled  himself  into  their  good  graces. 
After  a  while  the  unfavourable  impression  occasioned  by  his 
sinister  countenance  would  become  more  faint,  while  his  well- 
feigned  kindness  and  apparent  indulgence  to  his  numerous 
debtors,  would  tell  greatly  in  his  favour. 

My  first  impression  of  this  man  was  pretty  nearly  such  as 
I  have  described ;  and,  though  I  suspected  and  shunned  him,  I 
was  shure  to  meet  him  at  every  turn.  At  length  this  unfa 
vourable  feeling  wore  off  in  some  degree,  and  finding  him  in 
the  best  society  of  the  place,  I  began  to  think  that  his  counte 
nance  belied  him,  and  I  reproached  myself  for  my  ungenerous 
suspicions. 

Feeling  a  certain  security  in  the  smallness  of  my  available 

capital,  I  did  not  hesitate  in  applying  to  Mr.  Q to  sell 

me  a  farm,  particularly  as  I  was  aware  of  his  anxiety  to 

induce  me  to  settle  near  C ,  for  the  reasons  already  stated. 

I  told  him  that  £300  was  the  very  largest  sum  I  could  give 
for  a  farm,  and  that,  if  I  could  not  get  one  for  that  price, 
I  should  join  my  friends  in  the  backwoods. 

Q ,  after  scratching  his  head,  and  considering  for  a  few 

minutes,  told  me  that  he  knew  a  farm  which  he  could  sell  me 
for  that  price,  particularly  as  he  wished  to  get  rid  of  a  set  of 
Yankee  rascals  who  prevented  emigrants  from  settling  in  that 
neighbourhood.  We  afterwards  found  that  there  was  but  too 
good  reason  for  the  character  he.  gave  of  some  of  our  neigh 
bours. 

Q held  a  mortgage  for  £150  on  a  farm  belonging  to  a 

certain  Yankee  settler,  named  Joe  H ,  as  security  for 

a  debt  incurred  for  goods  at  his  store,  hi  C .  The  idea 

instantly  struck  Q that  he  would  compel  Joe  H to 


186  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

sell  him  his  farm,  by  threatening  to  foreclose  the  mortgage.  I 
drove  out  with  Mr.  Q next  day  to  see  the  farm  in  ques 
tion.  It  was  situated  in  a  pretty  retired  valley,  surrounded 

by  hills,  about  eight  miles  from  C ,  and  about  a  mile 

from  the  great  road  leading  to  Toronto.  There  was  an  exten 
sive  orchard  upon  the  farm,  and  two  log  houses,  and  a  large 
frame  barn.  A  considerable  portion  of  the  cleared  land  wa3 
light  and  sandy ;  and  the  uncleared  part  of  the  farm,  situated 
on  the  flat,  rocky  summit  of  a  high  hill,  was  reserved  for  "  a 
sugar  bush,"  and  for  supplying  fuel.  On  the  whole,  I  was 
pleased  with  the  farm,  which  was  certainly  cheap  at  the  price 
of  £300 ;  and  I  therefore  at  once  closed  the  bargain  with  Mr. 

Q . 

At  that  time  I  had  not  the  slightest  idea  but  that  the  farm 
actually  belonged  to  the  land-jobber ;  and  I  am,  to  this  day, 
unable  to  tell  by  what  means  he  succeeded  in  getting  Mr. 
H to  part  with  his  property. 

The  father  of  Joe  H had  cleared  the  form,  and  while 

the  soil  was  new,  it  gave  good  crops ;  but  as  the  rich  surface, 
or  "  black  muck,"  as  it  is  called,  became  exhausted  by  con 
tinual  cropping,  nothing  but  a  poor,  meagre  soil  remained. 

The  early  settlers  were  wretched  farmers  ;  they  never 
ploughed  deep  enough,  and  never  thought  of  manuring  the 
land.  After  working  the  land  for  several  years,  they  would 
let  it  lie  waste  for  three  or  four  years  without  sowing  grass- 
seeds,  and  then  plough  it  up  again  for  wheat.  The  greater 
part  of  the  hay  raised  on  these  farms  was  sold  in  the  towns, 
and  the  cattle  were  fed  during  the  long  severe  winter  on 
wheat-straw.  The  natural  result  of  this  poor  nourishment 
was,  that  their  cattle  continually  degenerated,  and  great  num 
bers  died  every  spring  of  a  disease  called  the  "  hollow  horn," 
which  appears  to  be  peculiar  to  this  country.  When  the  lands 
became  sterile,  from  this  exhausting  treatment,  they  were 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  187 

called  "  worn-out  farms ;"  and  the  owners  generally  sold  them 
to  new  settlers  from  the  old  country,  and  with  the  money 
they  received,  bought  a  larger  quantity  of  wild  lands,  to  pro 
vide  for  their  sons ;  by  whom  the  same  improvident  process 
was  recommenced. 

These  early  settlers  were,  in  fact,  only  fit  for  pioneers  to  a 
more  thrifty  class  of  settlers. 

Joe  H ,  or  "  Uncle  Joe,"  as  the  country  people  call 

any  acquaintance,  after  a  fashion  borrowed,  no  doubt,  from 
the  Dutch  settlers  of  the  State  of  New  York,  was,  neither  by 
his  habits  nor  industry,  likely  to  become  more  prosperous 
than  his  neighbours  of  the  same  thoughtless  class.  His  father 
had  worked  hard  in  his  time,  and  Uncle  Joe  thought  he  had  a 
good  right  to  enjoy  himself.  The  nearest  village  was  only 
five  miles  from  his  place,  and  he  was  never  without  some 
excuse  for  going  thither  every  two  or  three  days.  His  horse 
wanted  shoeing,  or  his  plough  or  wagon  wanted  "  to  be 
fixed"  by  the  blacksmith  or  carpenter.  As  a  matter  of  course, 
he  came  home  "  pretty  high ;"  for  he  was  in  the  constant 
habit  of  pouring  a  half-tumbler  of  whiskey  down  his  throat, 
standing  bolt  upright  at  the  bar  of  the  tavern,  after  which  he 
would  drink  about  the  same  quantity  of  cold  water  to  wash 
it  down.  These  habits,  together  with  bad  farming,  and  a 
lazy,  slovenly  helpmate,  in  a  few  years  made  Joe  as  poor  as 
he  could  desire  to  be ;  and  at  last  he  was  compelled  to  sell 
his  farm  to  Mr.  Q . 

After  we  had  got  settled  down  on  this  farm,  I  had  often 
occasion  to  drive  into  C ,  for  the  purpose  of  buying  gro 
ceries  and  other  necessaries,  as  we  then  thought  them,  at  the 

store  of  Mr.  Q .  On  these  occasions  I  always  took  up 

my  quarters,  for  the  time,  at  the  tavern  of  our  worthy  Yankee 

friend,  Mr.  S .  As  I  drove  up  to  the  door,  I  generally 

found  S walking  about  briskly  on  the  boarded  platform, 


188  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

or  "  stoop,"  in  front  of  the  house,  welcoming  his  guests  in  his 
own  peculiar  free-and-easy  style,  looking  after  their  horses, 
and  seeing  that  his  people  were  attentive  to  their  duties. 
I  think  I  see  him  now  before  me,  with  his  thin,  erect, 
lathy  figure,  his  snub  nose,  and  puckered-up  face,  wriggling 
and  twisting  himself  about,  in  his  desire  to  please  his  cus 
tomers. 

On  stopping  in  front  of  the  tavern,  shortly  after  our  settle 
ment  on  the  farm,  Mr.  S stepped  up  to  me,  in  the  most 

familiar  manner  imaginable,  holding  out  his  hand  quite  con 
descendingly, — "  Ah,  Mister  Moodie,  ha — a — w  do  you  do  1 
— ha — a — w's  the  old  woman  ?" 

At  first  I  could  not  conceive  whom  he  meant  by  this  very 
homely  appellation  ;  and  I  very  simply  asked  him  what 
person  he  alluded  to,  as  I  had  no  old  woman  in  my  estab 
lishment. 

"Why,  your  old  woman,  to  be  sure — your  missus — Mrs. 
Moodie,  I  guess.  You  don't  quite  understand  our  language 

yet." 

"  O  !  now  I  understand  you ;  she's  quite  well,  T  thank  you ; 

and  how  is  our  friend  Mrs.  j$ !"  I  replied,  laying  a  slight 

emphasis  on  the  Mrs.,  by  way  of  a  gentle  hint  for  his  future 
guidance. 

"Mrs.   S ,  I  guess  she's  smart,  pret-ty  considerable. 

She'll  be  right  glad  to  see  you,  for  you're  pretty  considerable 
of  a  favour-i/e  with  her,  I  tell  you ;  but  now  tell  me  what  you 
will  drink  1 — for  it's  my  treat." 

As  he  said  these  words,  he  strutted  into  the  tavern  before 
me,  throwing  his  head  and  shoulders  back,  and  rising  on  his 
tiptoes  every  step. 

Mrs.  S had  been  a  very  hanasome  woman,  and   still 

retained  much  of  her  good  looks.  She  was  a  most  exemplary 
housewife  and  manager.  I  was  often  astonished  to  witness 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  189 

the  incessant  toil  she  had  to  endure  in  attending  to  the  wants 
of  such  a  numerous  household. 

She  had  plenty  of  Irish  "  helps"  in  the  kitchen ;  but  they 
knew  as  much  of  cookery  as  they  did  of  astronomy,  and  poor 

Mrs.  S 's  hands,  as  well  as  her  head,  were  in  constant 

requisition. 

She  had  two  very  pretty  daughters,  whom  she  would  not 
suffer  to  do  any  rough  work  which  would  spoil  their  soft, 

white  hands.  Mrs.  S ,  no  doubt,  foresaw  that  she  could 

not  expect  to  keep  such  fair  creatures  long  in  such  a  marrying 
country  as  Canada,  and,  according  to  the  common  caution  of 
divines,  she  held  these  blessings  with  a  loose  hand. 

There  was  one  sweet  little  girl,  whom  I  had  often  seen  in 
her  father's  arms,  with  her  soft  dark  eyes,  and  her  long  auburn 
ringlets  hanging  in  wild  profusion  over  his  shoulders. 

" I  guess  she  likes  pa,  some"  Mr.  S would  say  when  I 

remarked  her  fondness  for  him. 

This  little  fairy  had  a  natural  genius  for  music,  and  though 
she  was  only  four  years  old,  she  would  sit  for  an  hour  at  a 
time  at  the  door  of  our  room  to  hear  me  play  on  the  flute, 
and  would  afterwards  sing  all  the  airs  she  picked  up,  with  the 
sweetest  voice  in  the  world. 

Humble  as  the  calling  of  a  tavern-keeper  may  be  con 
sidered  in  England,  it  is  looked  upon  in  the  United  States, 

where  Mrs.  S was  "  raised"  as  extremely  respectable  ; 

and  I  have  never  met  writh  women,  in  any  class  of  society 
elsewhere,  who  possessed  more  of  the  good  feeling  and  unob 
trusive  manners  which  should  belong  to  ladies  than  in  the 
family  of  this  worthy  tavern-keeper. 

When  I  contrast  their  genuine  kindness  and  humanity 
with  the  haughty,  arrogant  airs  assumed  by  some  ladies  of  a 
higher  standing  in  society,  from  England,  who  sojourned  in 
their  house  at  the  same  time  with  ourselves, — when  I  remem. 


190  EOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

ber  their  insolent  way  of  giving  their  orders  to  Mrs.  S , 

and  their  still  more  wounding  condescension — I  confess  I  can 
not  but  feel  ashamed  of  my  countrywomen.  All  these  patron 
izing  airs,  I  doubt  not,  were  assumed  purposely  to  impress  the 
minds  of  those  worthy  people  with  an  idea  of  their  vast  su 
periority.  I  have  sometimes,  I  confess,  been  a  little  annoyed 
with  the  familiarity  of  the  Americans,  Canadians  as  well  as 
Yankees ;  but  I  must  say  that  experience  has  taught  me  to 
blame  myself  at  least  as  much  as  them.  If,  instead  of  send 
ing  our  youthful  aristocracy  to  the  continent  of  Europe,  to  treat 
the  natives  with  contempt  and  increase  the  unpopularity  of 
the  British  abroad,  while  their  stock  of  native  arrogance  is 
augmented  by  the  cringing  complaisance  of  those  who  only 
bow  to  their  superiority  in  wealth,  they  were  sent  to  the 
United  States,  or  even  to  Canada,  they  would  receive  a  lesson 
or  two  which  would  be  of  infinite  service  to  them ;  some  of 
their  most  repulsive  prejudices  and  peculiarities  would  soon 
be  rubbed  off  by  the  rough  towel  of  democracy. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  the  remarkable  diversity  in 'the  ac 
counts  given  by  recent  emigrants  to  this  country,  of  their 
treatment,  and  of  the  manners  and  character  of  the  people, 
in  the  United  States  and  in  Canada.  Some  meet  with  con 
stant  kindness,  others  with  nothing  but  rudeness  and  brutal 
ity.  Of  course  there  is  truth  in  both  accounts ;  but  strangers 
from  an  aristocratical  country  do  not  usually  make  sufficient 
allowance  for  the  habits  and  prejudices  of  a  people  of  a  land, 
in  which,  from  the  comparatively  equal  distribution  of  prop 
erty,  and  the  certain  prosperity  attendant  on  industry,  the 
whole  constitution  of  society  is  necessarily  democratical,  irre 
spectively  of  political  institutions.  Those  who  go  to  such  a 
country  with  the  notion  that  they  will  carry  every  thing  before 
them  by  means  of  pretence  and  assumption,  will  find  them 
selves  grievously  deceived.  To  use  a  homely  illustration,  it 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  191 

is  just  as  irrational  to  expect  to  force  a  large  body  through  a 
small  aperture.  In  both  cases  they  will  meet  with  unyielding 
resistance. 

When  a  poor  and  industrious  mechanic,  farmer,  or  la 
bourer  comes  here  without  pretensions  of  any  kind,  no  such 
complaints  are  to  be  heard.  He  is  treated  with  respect,  and 
every  one  seems  willing  to  help  him  forward.  If  in  after  years 
the  manners  of  such  a  settler  should  grow  in  importance  with 
his  prosperity — which  is  rarely  the  case — his  pretensions 
would  be  much  more  readily  tolerated  than  those  of  any  un 
known  or  untried  individual  in  a  higher  class  of  society. 

The  North  Americans  generally  are  much  more  disposed 
to  value  people  according  to  the  estimate  they  form  of  their 
industry,  and  other  qualities  which  more  directly  lead  to  the 
acquisition  of  property,  and  to  the  benefit  of  the  community, 
than  for  their  present  and  actual  wealth.  While  they  pay  a 
certain  mock  homage  to  a  wealthy  immigrant,  when  they  have 
a  motive  in  doing  so,  they  secretly  are  more  inclined  to  look 
on  him  as  a  well-fledged  goose  who  has  come  to  America  to 
be  plucked.  In  truth,  many  of  them  are  so  dexterous  in  this 
operation  that  the  unfortunate  victim  is  often  stripped  naked 
before  he  is  aware  that  he  has  lost  a  feather. 

There  seems  to  be  a  fatality  attending  riches  imported  into 
Canada.  They  are  sure  to  make  to  themselves  wings  and  flee 
away,  while  wealth  is  no  less  certain  to  adhere  to  the  poor  and 
industrious  settler.  The  great  fault  of  the  Canadian  charac 
ter  is  an  unwillingness  to  admit  the  just  claims  of  education 
and  talent,  however  unpretending,  to  some  share  of  considera 
tion.  In  this  respect  the  Americans  of  the  United  States  are 
greatly  superior  to  the  Canadians,  because  they  are  better 
educated  and  their  country  longer  settled.  These  genuine 
Republicans,  when  their  theory  of  the  original  and  natural 
equality  among  them  is  once  cheerfully  admitted,  are  ever 


192  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

ready  to  show  respect  to  mental  superiority,  whether  natural 
or  acquired. 

My  evenings  on  visiting  C were  usually  spent  at  Mr. 

S 's  tavern,  where  I  was  often  much  amused  with  the  variety 

of  characters  who  were  there  assembled,  and  who,  from  the 
free-and-easy  familiarity  of  the  colonial  manners,  had  little 
chance  of  concealing  their  peculiarities  from  an  attentive  ob 
server. 

Mr.  Q ,  of  course,  was  always  to  be  found  there,  drink 
ing,  smoking  cigars,  and  cracking  jokes.  To  a  casual  observer 
he  appeared  to  be  a  regular  boon  companion,  without  an  ob 
ject  but  that  of  enjoying  the  passing  hour.  Among  his  nu 
merous  accomplishments,  he  had  learnt  a  number  of  sleight- 
of-hand  tricks  from  the  travelling  conjurors  who  visit  the 
country,  and  are  generally  willing  to  sell  their  secrets  singly, 
at  a  regulated  price.  This  seemed  a  curious  investment  for 

Q ,  but  he  knew  how  to  turn  every  thing  to  account.  By 

such  means  he  was  enabled  to  contribute  to  the  amusement 
of  the  company,  and  thus  became  a  kind  of  favourite.  If  he 
could  not  manage  to  sell  a  lot  of  land  to  an  immigrant  or 
speculator,  he  would  carelessly  propose  to  some  of  the  com 
pany  to  have  a  game  at  whist  or  loo,  to  pass  the  time  away ; 
and  he  never  failed  to  conjure  most  of  their  money  into  his 
pockets. 

At  this  time  a  new  character  made  his  appearance  at 

C ,  a  Mr.  B ,  an  English  farmer  of  the  true  yeoman 

breed.  He  was  a  short-legged,  long-bodied,  corpulent  little 
man.  He  wore  a  brown  coat,  with  ample  skirts,  and  a  vast 
expanse  of  vest,  with  drab-coloured  small-clothes  and  gaiters. 

B was  a  jolly,  good-natured  looking  man,  with  an  easy, 

blunt  manner  which  might  easily  pass  for  honesty. 

Q had  sold  him  a  lot  of  wild  land  in  some  out-of-the- 
way  township,  by  making  Mr.  B believe  that  he  could 


THE  LAND- JOBS ER.  193 

sell  it  again  very  soon,  with  a  handsome  profit.  Of  course 
his  bargain  was  not  a  good  one.  He  soon  found  from  its 
situation  that  the  land  was  quite  unsaleable,  there  being  no 
settlements  in  the  neighbourhood.  Instead  of  expressing  any 
resentment,  he  fairly  acknowledged  that  Q was  his  mas 
ter  at  a  bargain,  and  gave  him  full  credit  for  his  address  and 
cunning,  and  quietly  resolved  in  his  own  mind  to  profit  by  the 
lesson  he  had  received, 

Now,  with  all  their  natural  acuteness  and  habitual  dexter 
ity  in  such  matters,  the  Canadians  have  one  weak  point ;  they 
are  too  ready  to  believe  that  Englishmen  are  made  of  money. 
All  that  an  emigrant  has  to  do  to  acquire  the  reputation  of 
having  money,  is  to  seem  quite  easy,  and  free  from  care  or 
anxiety  for  the  future,  and  to  maintain  a  certain  degree  of  re 
serve  in  talking  of  his  private  affairs,  Mr.  B perfectly 

understood  how  to  play  his  cards  with  the  land-jobber ;  and 
his  fat,  jolly  physiognomy,  and  rustic,  provincial  manners  and 
accent,  greatly  assisted  him  in  the  deception. 

Every  day  Q drove  him  out  to  look  at  different  farms. 

B talked  carelessly  of  buying  some  "  large"  block  of 

land,  that  would  cost  him  some  £3000  or  £4000,  providing  he 
could  only  find  the  kind  of  soil  he  particularly  liked  for  farm 
ing  purposes.  As  he  seemed  to  be  in  no  hurry  in  making  his 

selection,  Q determined  to  make  him  useful,  in  the  mean 

time,  in  promoting  his  views  with  respect  to  others.  He 

therefore  puffed  Mr.  B up  to  every  body  as  a  Norfolk 

farmer  of  large  capital,  and  always  appealed  to  him  to  con 
firm  the  character  he  gave  of  any  farm  he  wished  to  sell  to  a 

new  comer.  B ,  on  his  side,  was  not  slow  in  playing  into 

Q 's  hand  on  these  occasions,  and  without  being  at  all 

suspected  of  collusion. 

In  the  evening,  Mr.  B would  walk  into  the  public  room 

of  the  tavern,  apparently  fatigued  with  his  exertions  through 

9 


194  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  EUSff. 

the  day  ;  fling  himself  carelessly  on  a  sofa,  and  unbutton  his 
gaiters  and  the  knees  of  his  small-clothes.  He  took  little 
notice  of  any  body  unless  he  was  spoken  to,  and  his  whole 
demeanour  seemed  to  say,  as  plainly  as  words,  "  I  care  for 
nobody,  nobody  cares  for  me."  This  was  just  the  kind  of 
man  for  Q .  He  instantly  saw  that  he  would  be  an  invalu 
able  ally  and  coadjutor,  without  seeming  to  be  so.  When 

B made  his  first  appearance  in  the  evening,  Q was 

seldom  at  the  tavern,  for  his  time  had  not  yet  come.  In  the 
mean  while,  B was  sure  to  be  drawn  gradually  into  con 
versation  by  some  emigrants,  who,  seeing  that  he  was  a  prac 
tical  farmer,  would  be  desirous  of  getting  his  opinion  respect 
ing  certain  farms  which  they  thought  of  purchasing.  There 
was  such  an  appearance  of  blunt  simplicity  of  character  about 
him,  that  most  of  these  inquirers  thought  he  was  forgetting 
his  own  interests  in  telling  them  so  much  as  he  did.  In  the 
course  of  conversation,  he  would  mention  several  farms  he  had 
been  looking  at  with  the  intention  of  purchasing,  and  he  would 
particularly  mention  some  one  of  them  as  possessing  extraordi 
nary  advantages,  but  which  had  some  one  disadvantage  which 
rendered  it  ineligible  for  him ;  such  as  being  too  small,  a  cir 
cumstance  which,  in  all  probability,  would  recommend  it  to 
another  description  of  settler. 

It  is  hard  to  say  whether  Q was  or  was  not  deceived 

by  B ;  but  though  he  used  him  at  present  as  a  decoy,  he 

no  doubt  expected  ultimately  to  sell  him  some  of  his  farms, 

with  a  very  handsome  profit.     B ,  however,  whose  means 

were  probably  extremely  small,  fought  shy  of  buying ;  and 
after  looking  at  a  number  of  farms,  he  told  Q — - —  that,  on 
mature  reflection,  he  thought  he  could  employ  his  capital  more 
profitably  by  renting  a  number  of  farms,  and  working  them 
in  the  English  manner,  which  he  felt  certain  would  answer 
admirably  in  Canada,  instead  of  sinking  his  capital  at  once  in 


Tffl  LANV-JO$BER.  195 

the  purchase  of  lands.     Q was  fairly  caught ;  and  B 

hired  some  six  or  seven  farms  from  him,  which  he  worked  for 
some  time,  no  doubt  greatly  to  his  own  advantage,  for  he 
neither  paid  rent  nor  wages. 

Occasionally,  other  land-speculators  would  drop  into  the 

tavern,  when  a  curious  game  would  be  played  between  Q 

and  them.  One  of  the  speculators  would  ask  another  if  he  did 
not  own  some  land  in  a  particular  part  of  the  country,  as  he 
had  bought  some  lots  in  the  same  quarter,  without  seeing 
them,  and  would  like  to  know  if  they  were  good.  The  other 
would  answer  in  the  affirmative,  and  pretend  to  desire  to  pur 
chase  the  lots  mentioned.  The  former,  in  his  turn,  would  pre 
tend  reluctance,  and  make  a  similar  offer  of  buying.  All  this 
cunning  manoeuvring  would  be  continued  for  a  time,  in  the 
hope  of  inducing  some  third  party  or  stranger  to  make  an 
offer  for  the  land,  which  would  be  accepted.  It  often  happened 
that  some  other  person,  who  had  hitherto  taken  no  part  in  the 
course  of  these  conversations,  and  who  appeared  to  have  no 
personal  interest  in  the  matter,  would  quietly  inform  the 
stranger  that  he  knew  the  land  in  question,  and  that  it  was  all 
of  the  very  best  quality. 

It  would  be  endless  to  describe  all  the  little  artifices  prac 
tised  by  these  speculators  to  induce  persons  to  purchase  from 
them. 

Besides  a  few  of  these  unprincipled  traders  in  land,  some 
of  whom  are  found  in  most  of  the  towns,  there  are  a  large 
number  of  land-speculators  who  own  both  wild  and  improved 
farms  in  all  parts  of  the  colony  who  do  not  descend  to  these 
discreditable  arts,  but  wait  quietly  until  their  lands  become 
valuable  by  the  progress  of  improvement  in  their  neighbour 
hood,  when  they  readily  find  purchasers — or,  rather,  the  pur 
chasers  find  them  out,  and  obtain  their  lands  at  reasonable 
prices. 


196  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

In  1832,  when  we  came  to  Canada,  a  great  speculation  was 
carried  on  in  the  lands  of  the  U.  E.  (or  United  Empire)  Loy 
alists.  The  sons  and  daughters  of  these  loyalists,  who  had 
fled  to  Canada  from  the  United  States  at  the  time  of  the  revo 
lutionary  war,  were  entitled  to  free  grants  of  lots  of  wild  land. 
Besides  these,  few  free  grants  of  land  were  made  by  the  Brit 
ish  Government,  except  those  made  to  half-payofficers  of  the 
army  and  navy,  and  of  course  there  was  a  rapid  rise  in  their 
value. 

Almost  all  the  persons  entitled  to  such  grants  had  settled 
in  the  eastern  part  of  the  Upper  Province,  and  as  the  large 
emigration  which  had  commenced  to  Canada  had  chiefly 
flowed  into  the  more  western  parts  of  the  colony,  they  were, 
in  general,  ignorant  of  the  increased  value  of  their  lands,  and 
were  ready  to  sell  them  for  a  mere  trifle.  They  were  bought 
by  the  speculators  at  from  2s.  Qd.  to  3s.  9d.  per  acre,  and 
often  for  much  less,  and  were  sold  again,  with  an  enormous 
profit,  at  from  5s.  to  20s.,  and  sometimes  even  40s.  per  acre, 
according  to  their  situation. 

As  to  personally  examining  these  lands,  it  was  a  thing 
never  thought  of,  for  their  price  was  so  low  that  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  lose  by  the  purchase.  The  supply  of  U.  E. 
Loyalists'  lands,  or  claims  for  land,  for  a  long  time  seemed  to 
be  almost  inexhaustible ;  for  the  loyal  refugees  appear  to  have 
been  prolific  beyond  all  precedent,  and  most  of  those  who 
held  office  at  the  capital  of  the  province,  or  who  could  com 
mand  a  small  capital,  became  speculators,  and  throve  prodi 
giously.  Many  persons,  during  the  early  days  of  the  colony, 
were  thus  enriched,  without  risk  or  labour,  from  the  inexhaust 
ible  "  quivers"  of  the  U.  E.  Loyalists. 

Though  the  bulk  of  the  speculators  bought  lands  at  hap 
hazard,  certain  parties  who  found  favour  at  the  government 
offices  managed  to  secure  the  best  lands  which  were  for  salo 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  197 

or  location,  before  they  were  exposed  to  fair  competition  at 
the  periodical  public  sales  in  the  different  districts.  Thus  a 
large  portion  of  the  wild  lands  in  the  colony  were  and  are  still 
held  :  the  absentee  proprietors,  profiting  from  the  increased 
value  given  to  their  property  by  the  improvements  of  the 
actual  settlers,  while  they  contribute  little  or  nothing  to  the 
cultivation  of  the  country.  The  progress  of  the  colony  has 
thus  been  retarded,  and  its  best  interests  sacrificed,  to  gratify 
the  insatiable  cupidity  of  a  clique  who  boasted  the  exclusive 
possession  of  all  the  loyalty  in  the  country  ;  and  every  inde 
pendent  man  who  dared  to  raise  his  voice  against  such  abuses 
was  branded  as  a  Republican. 

Mr.  Q dealt  largely  in  these  "  U.  E.  Rights,"  as  they 

were  called,  and  so  great  was  the  emigration  in  1832  that  the 
lands  he  bought  at  2s.  Qd.  per  acre  he  could  readily  sell  again 
to  emigrants  and  Canadians  at  from  5s.  to  15s.  per  acre,  accord 
ing  to  situation,  and  the  description  of  purchasers  he  met  with. 
I  have  stated  that  the  speculators  generally  buy  lands  at  hap 
hazard.  By  this  I  mean  as  to  the  quality  of  the  lands.  All 
colonists  accustomed  to  observe  the  progress  of  settlement, 
and  the  local  advantages  which  hasten  improvement,  acquire 
a  peculiar  sagacity  in  such  matters.  Unfortunately  for  many 
old  countrymen,  they  are  generally  entirely  destitute  of  this 
kind  of  knowledge,  which  is  only  acquired  by  long  observation 
and  experience  in  colonies. 

The  knowledge  of  the  causes  which  promote  the  rapid  set 
tlement  of  a  new  country,  and  of  those  in  general  which  lead 
to  the  improvement  of  the  physical  condition  of  mankind,  may 
be  compared  to  the  knowledge  of  a  language.  The  inhabitant 
of  a  civilized  and  long-settled  country  may  speak  and  write 
his  own  language  with  the  greatest  purity ;  but  very  few  ever 
reflect  on  the  amount  of  thought,  metaphor,  and  ingenuity 
which  have  been  expended  by  their  less  civilized  ancestors  in 


198  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

bringing  that  language  to  perfection.  The  barbarian  first  feels 
the  disadvantage  of  a  limited  means  of  communicating  his 
ideas,  and  with  great  labour  and  ingenuity  devises  the  means, 
from  time  to  time,  to  remedy  the  imperfections  of  his  language. 
He  is  compelled  to  analyze  and  study  it  in  its  first  elements, 
and  to  augment  the  modes  of  expression  in  order  to  keep  pace 
with  the  increasing  number  of  his  wants  and  ideas. 

A  colony  bears  the  same  relation  to  an  old-settled  country 
that  a  grammar  does  to  a  language.  In  a  colony,  society  is 
seen  in  its  first  elements,  the  country  itself  is  in  its  rudest  and 
simplest  form.  The  colonist  knows  them  in  this  primitive 
state,  and  watches  their  progress  step  by  step.  In  this  man 
ner  he  acquires  an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  philosophy  of 
improvement,  which  is  almost  unattainable  by  an  individual 
who  has  lived  from  his  childhood  in  a  highly  complex  and 
artificial  state  of  society,  where  every  thing  around  him  was 
formed  and  arranged  long  before  he  came  into  the  world  ;  he 
sees  the  effects,  the  causes  existed  long  before  his  time.  His 
place  in  society — his  portion  of  the  wealth  of  the  country — 
his  prejudices — his  religion  itself,  if  he  has  any,  are  all  more 
or  less  hereditary.  He  is  in  some  measure  a  mere  machine, 
or  rather  a  part  of  one.  He  is  a  creature  of  education,  rather 
than  of  original  thought. 

The  colonist  has  to  create — he  has  to  draw  on  his  own 
stock  of  ideas,  and  to  rouse  up  all  his  latent  energies  to  meet 
all  his  wants  in  his  new  position.  Thus  his  thinking  principle 
is  strengthened,  and  he  is  more  energetic.  When  a  moderate 
share  of  education  is  added  to  these  advantages — for  they  are 
advantages  in  onejsense— he  becomes  a  superior  being. 

I  have  indulged  in  .these  reflections,  with  manifest  risk  of 
being  thought  somewhat  prosy  by  my  more  lively  readers,  in 
order  to  guard  my  countrymen,  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish, 
against  a  kind  of  presumption  which  is  exceedingly  common. 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  199 

among  them  when  they  come  to  Canada — of  fancying  that 
they  are  as  capable  of  forming  correct  opinions  on  local  mat 
ters  as  the  Canadians  themselves.  It  is  always  somewhat 
humbling  to  our  self-love  to  be  compelled  to  confess  what 
may  be  considered  an  error  of  judgment,  but  my  desire  to 
guard  future  settlers  against  similar  mistakes  overpowers  my 
reluctance  to  own  that  I  fell  into  the  common  error  of  many 
of  my  countrymen,  of  purchasing  wild  land,  on  speculation, 
with  a  very  inadequate  capital.  This  was  one  of  the  chief 
causes  of  much  suffering,  in  which  for  many  years  my  family 
became  involved ;  but  through  which,  supported  by  trust  in 
Providence,  and  the  energy  of  a  devoted  partner,  I  continued 
by  her  aid  to  struggle,  until,  when  least  expected,  the  light  of 
hope  at  length  dawned  upon  us. 

In  reflecting  on  this  error — for  error  and  imprudence  it 
was,  even  though  the  result  had  been  fortunate — I  have  still 
this  poor  comfort,  that  there  was  not  one  in  a  hundred  of  per 
sons  similarly  situated  but  fell  into  the  same  mistake,  of 
trusting  too  much  to  present  appearances,  without  sufficient 
experience  in  the  country. 

I  had,  as  I  have  already  stated,  about  £300  when  I  arrived 
in  Canada.  This  sum  was  really  advantageously  invested  in 
a  cleared  farm,  which  possessed  an  intrinsic  and  not  a  merely 
speculative  value.  Afterwards  a  small  legacy  of  about  £700 
fell  into  my  hands,  and  had  I  contented  myself  with  this  farm, 
and  purchased  two  adjoining  cleared  farms,  containing  two 
hundred  acres  of  land  of  the  finest  quality  which  were  sold 
far  below  their  value  by  the  thriftless  owners,  I  should  have 
done  well,  or  at  all  events  have  invested  my  money  profitably. 
But  the  temptation  to  buy  wild  land  at  5s.  an  acre,  which 
was  expected  to  double  in  value  in  a  few  months,  with  the 
example  of  many  instances  of  similar  speculation  proving  suc 
cessful  which  came  under  my  notice,  proved  irresistible. 


200  EOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

In  1832  emigration  was  just  at  its  height,  and  a  great 
number  of  emigrants,  several  of  whom  were  of  the  higher 
class,  and  possessed  of  considerable  capital,  were  directed  to 

the  town  of  C ,  in  the  rear  of  which  extensive  tracts  of 

land  were  offered  to  settlers  at  the  provincial  government 
sales.  Had  this  extensive  emigration  continued,  I  should 
have  been  enabled  to  double  my  capital,  by  selling  my  wild 
lands  to  settlers ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  prevalence  of  cholera 
during  that  year,  and  other  causes,  gave  such  a  serious  check 
to  emigration  to  Canada  that  it  has  never  been  renewed  to  the 
same  extent  since  that  time.  Besides  the  chance  of  a  check 
to  emigration  generally,  the  influx  of  strangers  is  often  ex- 
tremely  capricious  in  the  direction  it  takes,  flowing  one  year 
into  one  particular  locality,  and  afterwards  into  another. 
Both  these  results,  neither  of  which  was  foreseen  by  any  one, 
unfortunately  for  me,  ensued  just  at  that  time.  It  seemed 
natural  that  emigrants  should  flow  into  a  fertile  tract  of  land, 
and  emigration  was  confidently  expected  steadily  to  increase ; 
these  were  our  anticipations,  but  neither  of  them  was  realized. 
"Were  it  suitable  to  the  character  of  these  sketches,  I  would 
enter  into  the  subject  of  emigration  and  the  progress  of  im 
provement  in  Canada,  respecting  which  my  judgment  has  been 
matured  by  experience  and  observation ;  but  such  considera 
tions  would  be  out  of  place  in  volumes  like  the  present,  and  I 
shall  therefore  proceed  with  my  narrative. 

I  had  obtained  my  cleared  farm  on  easy  terms,  and,  in  so 
far  as  the  probability  of  procuring  a  comfortable  subsistence 
was  concerned,  we  had  no  reason  to  complain ;  but  comfort 
and  happiness  do  not  depend  entirely  on  a  sufficiency  of  the 
necessaries  of  life.  Some  of  our  neighbours  were  far  from 
being  agreeable  to  us.  Being  fresh  from  England,  it  could 
"hardly  be  expected  that  we  could  at  once  accommodate  our 
selves  to  the  obtrusive  familiarity  of  persons  who  had  no  con- 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  201 

ception  of  any  differences  in  taste  or  manners  arising  from 
education  and  habits  acquired  in  a  more  refined  state  of 
society.  I  allude  more  particularly  to  some  rude  and  demor 
alized  American  farmers  from  the  United  States,  who  lived 
in  our  immediate  neighbourhood.  Other  neighbours  from  the 
same  country  were  worthy,  industrious  people ;  but,  on  the 
whole,  the  evil  greatly  predominated  over  the  good  amongst 
them. 

At  a  few  miles'  distance  from  our  farm,  we  had  some  in 
telligent  English  neighbours,  of  a  higher  class ;  but  they  were 
always  so  busily  occupied  with  their  farming  operations,  that 
they  had  little  leisure  or  inclination  for  that  sort  of  easy  inter 
course  to  which  we  had  been  accustomed.  If  we  called  in 
the  forenoon,  we  generally  found  our  neighbour  hard  at  work 
111  the  fields,  and  his  wife  over  head  and  ears  in  her  domestic 
occupations.  We  had  to  ring  the  bell  repeatedly  before  we 
could  gain  admittance,  to  allow  her  time  to  change  her  ordi 
nary  dress.  Long  before  this  could  be  effected,  or  we  could 
enter  the  door,  sundry  reconnoitring  parties  of  the  children 
would  peep  at  us  round  the  corners  of  the  house,  and  then 
scamper  off  to  make  their  reports. 

It  was  strange  that  sensible  people  should  not  at  once  see 
the  necessity  of  accommodating  their  habits  to  their  situation 
and  circumstances,  and  receive  their  friends  without  appear 
ing  to  be  ashamed  of  their  employments.  This  absurdity, 
however,  is  happily  confined  to  the  would-be-genteel  people  in 
the  country,  who  visit  in  the  towns,  and  occasionally  are  am 
bitious  enough  to  give  large  parties  to  the  aristocracy  of  the 
towns.  The  others,  who  do  not  pretend  to  vie  with  the  towns 
people  in  such  follies,  are  a  great  deal  more  easy  and  natural 
in  their  manners,  and  more  truly  independent  and  hospitable. 

Now  that  we  are  better  acquainted  with  the  country,  we 
much  prefer  the  conversation  of  the  intelligent  arid  unpre- 


202  ROU&HING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

tending  class  of  farmers,  who,  though  their  education  has  "been 
limited,  often  possess  a  rich  fund  of  strong  common  sense 
and  liberality  of  sentiment,  and  not  unfrequently  great  ob 
servation  and  originality  of  mind.  At  the  period  I  refer  to,  a 
number  of  the  American  settlers  from  the  United  States,  who 
composed  a  considerable  part  of  the  population,  regarded 
British  settlers  with  an  intense  feeling  of  dislike,  and  found  a 
pleasure  in  annoying  and  insulting  them  when  any  occasion 
offered.  They  did  not  understand  us,  nor  did  we  them,  and 
they  generally  mistook  the  reserve  which  is  common  with  the 
British  towards  strangers  for  pride  and  superciliousness. 

"  You  Britishers  are  too  superstitious"  one  of  them  told 
me  on  a  particular  occasion. 

It  was  some  time  before  I  found  out  what  he  meant  by  the 
term  " superstitious"  and  that  it  was  generally  used  by  them 
for  "  supercilious." 

New  settlers  of  the  lower  classes  were  then  in  the  habit  of 
imitating  their  rudeness  and  familiarity,  which  they  mistook 
for  independence.  To  a  certain  extent,  this  feeling  still  exists 
amongst  the  working  class  from  Europe,  but  they  have  learnt 
to  keep  it  within  prudent  bounds  for  their  own  sakes ;  and  the 
higher  class  have  learnt  to  moderate  their  pretensions,  which 
will  not  be  tolerated  here,  where  labourers  are  less  dependent 
on  them  for  employment.  The  character  of  both  classes,  in 
fact,  has  been  altered  very  much  for  the  better,  and  a  better 
and  healthier  feeling  exists  between  them — much  more  so,  in 
deed,  than  in  England. 

The  labouring  class  come  to  this  country,  too  often,  with 
the  idea  that  the  higher  class  are  their  tyrants  and  oppress 
ors  ;  and,  with  a  feeling  akin  to  revenge,  they  are  often  in 
clined  to  make  their  employers  in  Canada  suffer  in  their  turn. 
This  feeling  is  the  effect  of  certain  depressing  causes,  often  re 
mote  and  beyond  the  reach  of  legislation,  but  no  less  real  on 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  203 

that  account ;  and  just  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  poverty 
and  servility  which  exists  among  the  labouring  class  in  the 
particular  part  of  the  United  Kingdom  from  which  they  come, 
will  be  the  reaction  here.  When  emigrants  have  been  some 
years  settled  in  Canada,  they  find  out  their  particular  and  just 
position,  as  well  as  their  duties  and  interests,  and  then  they 
begin  to  feel  truly  happy. 

The  fermentation  arising  from  the  strange  mixture  of  dis 
cordant  elements  and  feelings  gradually  subsides,  but  until 
this  takes  place,  the  state  of  society  is  any  thing  but  agreeable 
or  satisfactory. 

Such  was  its  state  at  C ,  in  1832  ;  and  to  us  it  was  so 

distasteful,  that  though  averse,  for  various  reasons,  to  com 
mence  a  new  settlement,  we  began  to  listen  to  the  persuasions 

of  our  friends,  wrho  were  settled  in  the  township  of  D , 

about  forty  miles  from  C ,  and  who  wrere  naturally  anx 
ious  to  induce  us  to  settle  among  them. 

Mrs.  Moodie's  brother,  S ,  had  recently  formed  a  set 
tlement  in  that  township,  and  just  before  our  arrival  in  Canada, 
had  been  joined  by  an  old  brother-officer  and  countryman  of 

mine,  Mr.  T ,  who  was  married  to  Mrs.  Moodie's  sister. 

The  latter,  who,  like  myself,  was  a  half-pay  officer,  had  pur 
chased  a  lot  of  wild  land,  close  to  the  farm  occupied  by  S . 

Mr,  S S had  emigrated  to  Canada  while  quite  a 

youth,  and  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  backwoods, 
and  with  the  use  of  the  felling-axe,  which  he  wielded  with  all 
the  ease  and  dexterity  of  a  native. 

I  had  already  paid  some  flying  visits  to  the  backwoods,  and 
found  the  state  of  society,  though  rude  and  rough,  more  con 
genial  to  our  European  tastes  and  habits  ;  for  several  gentle 
men  of  liberal  education  were  settled  in  the  neighbourhood, 
among  whom  there  was  a  constant  interchange  of  visits  and 
good  offices.  All  these  gentlemen  had  recently  arrived  from 


204  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

England,  Ireland,  or  Scotland,  and  all  the  labouring  class  were 
also  fresh  from  the  old  country,  and  consequently  very  little 
change  had  taken  place  in  the  manners  or  feelings  of  either 
class.  There  we  felt  we  could  enjoy  the  society  of  those  who 
could  sympathize  with  our  tastes  and  prejudices,  and  who, 
from  inclination  as  well  as  necessity,  were  inclined  to  assist 
each  other  in  their  farming  operations. 

There  is  no  situation  in  which  men  feel  more  the  necessity 
of  mutual  assistance  than  in  clearing  land. 

Alone,  a  man  may  fell  the  trees  on  a  considerable  extent 
of  woodland ;  but  without  the  assistance  of  two  or  three  oth 
ers,  he  cannot  pile  up  the  logs  previous  to  burning.  Common 
labourers  and  common  difficulties, -as  among  comrades  during 
a  campaign,  produce  a  social  unity  of  feeling  among  back 
woodsmen.  There  is,  moreover,  a  peculiar  charm  in  the  ex 
citement  of  improving  a  wilderness  for  the  benefit  of  children 
and  posterity ;  there  is  in  it,  also,  that  consciousness  of  use 
fulness  which  forms  so  essential  an  ingredient  in  true  happi 
ness.  Every  tree  that  falls  beneath  the  axe  opens  a  wider 
prospect,  and  encourages  the  settler  to  persevere  in  his  efforts 
to  attain  independence. 

Mr.  S had  secured  for  me  a  portion  of  the  military 

grant  of  four  hundred  acres,  which  I  was  entitled  to  as  a  half- 
pay  officer,  in  his  immediate  neighbourhood.  Though  this  por 
tion  amounted  to  only  sixty  acres,  it  was  so  far  advantageous 
to  me  as  being  in  a  settled  part  of  the  country.  I  bought  a 
clergy  reserve  of  two  hundred  acres,  in  the  rear  of  the  sixty 
acres,  for  £1  per  acre,  for  which  immediately  afterwards  I 
was  offered  £2  per  acre,  for  at  that  period  there  was  such  an 
influx  of  settlers  into  that  locality  that  lands  had  risen  rapidly 
to  a  fictitious  price.  I  had  also  purchased  one  hundred  acres 
more  for  £1  10s.  per  acre,  from  a  private  individual ;  this 
also  was  considered  cheap  at  the  time. 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  205 

These  lots,  forming  altogether  a  compact  farm  of  three 
hundred  and  sixty  acres,  were  situated  on  the  sloping  banks 
of  a  beautiful  lake,  or,  rather,  expansion  of  the  river  Otona- 
bee,  about  half-a-mile  wide,  and  studded  with  woody  islets. 
From  tliis  lake  I  afterwards  procured  many  a  good  meal  for 
my  little  family,  when  all  other  means  of  obtaining  food  had 
failed  us.  I  thus  secured  a  tract  of  land  which  was  amply 
sufficient  for  the  comfortable  subsistence  of  a  family,  had 
matters  gone  well  with  me. 

It  should  be  distinctly  borne  in  mind  by  the  reader,  that 
uncleared  land  in  a  remote  situation  from  markets  possesses, 
properly  speaking,  no  intrinsic  value  like  cleared  land,  for  a 
great  deal  of  labour  or  money  must  be  expended  before  it 
can  be  made  to  produce  any  thing  to  sell.  My  half  pay, 
which  amounted  to  about  £100  per  annum  of  Canadian  cur 
rency,  was  sufficient  to  keep  us  supplied  with  food,  and  to  pay 
for  clearing  a  certain  extent  of  land,  say  ten  acres  every  year, 
for  wheat,  which  is  immediately  afterwards  sown  with  grass- 
seeds  to  supply  hay  for  the  cattle  during  winter.  Unfortu 
nately,  at  this  period,  a  great  change  took  place  in  my  circum 
stances,  which  it  was  impossible  for  the  most  prudent  or  cau 
tious  to  have  foreseen. 

An  intimation  from  the  War-office  appeared  in  all  the 
newspapers,  calling  on  half-pay  officers  either  to  sell  their 
commissions  or  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to  join  some 
regiment.  This  was  a  hard  alternative,  as  many  of  these  offi 
cers  were  situated ;  for  a  great  many  of  them  had  been 
tempted  to  emigrate  to  Canada  by  the  grants  of  land  which 
were  offered  them  by  government,  and  had  expended  all  their 
means  in  improving  these  grants,  which  were  invariably  given 
to  them  in  remote  situations,  where  they  were  worse  than 
worthless  to  any  class  of  settlers  but  those  who  could  com- 


206  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

mand  sufficient  labour  in  their  own  families  to  make  the 
necessary  clearings  and  improvements. 

Rather  than  sell  my  commission,  I  would  at  once  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  join  a  regiment  in  any  part  of  the 
world  ;  but,  when  I  came  to  think  of  the  matter,  I  recollected 
that  the  expense  of  an  outfit,  and  of  removing  my  family — 
to  say  nothing  of  sacrificing  my  property  in  the  colony — 
would  render  it  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  accept  this  un 
pleasant  alternative,  after  being  my  own  master  for  eighteen 
years,  and  after  effectually  getting  rid  of  all  the  habits  which 
render  a  military  life  attractive  to  a  young  man.  Under 
these  circumstances,  I  too  hastily  determined  to  sell  out  of 
the  army.  This,  of  course,  was  easily  managed.  I  expected 
to  get  about  £600  for  my  commission ;  and,  before  the  trans 
action  was  concluded,  I  was  inquiring  anxiously  for  some 
mode  of  investing  the  proceeds,  so  as  to  yield  a  yearly 
income. 

Unfortunately,  as  it  turned  out,  I  made  a  bargain  with  Mr. 

Q for  twenty-five  shares,  of  £25  each,  in  a  fine  steamer, 

which  had  just  been  built  at  C ,  and  which  was  expected 

to  pay  at  least  twenty-five  per  cent,  to  the  shareholders. 

This  amount  of  stock  Q offered  me  for  the  proceeds  of 

my  commission,  whatever  amount  it  might  be  sold  for ;  offer 
ing  at  the  same  time  to  return  all  he  should  receive  above 
£600  sterling.  As  I  had  nothing  but  his  word  for  this  part 
of  the  agreement,  he  did  not  recollect  it  when  he  obtained 
£700,  which  was  £100  more  than  I  expected.  Some  boats 
on  Lake  Ontario,  while  the  great  emigration  lasted,  and  there 
was  less  competition,  yielded  more  than  thirty  per  cent. ;  and 
there  seemed  then  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  new  boat 
would  be  equally  profitable. 

It  is  possible  that  Q foresaw  what  actually  happened ; 

or,  more  probably,  he  thought  he  could  employ  his  money 


THE  LAND-JOBBER.  207 

better  in  land  speculations.  As  soon  as  the  steamer  began  to 
run,  a  quarrel  took  place  between  the  shareholders  who  resi 
ded  at  C ,  where  she  was  built,  and  those  who  lived  at 

the  capital  of  the  Upper  Province — York,  as  it  was  then  called. 
The  consequence  was  that  she  remained  idle  a  long  time,  and 
at  last  she  came  under  the  entire  control  of  the  shareholders 
at  York,  who  managed  the  boat  as  they  liked,  and  to  suit 
their  own  interests.  Afterwards,  though  the  boat  continued 
to  be  profitably  employed,  some  how  or  other  all  her  earnings 
were  consumed  in  repairs,  &c.,  and  for  several  years  I  never 
received  a  penny  for. my  shares.  At  last  the  steamer  was 
sold,  and  I  only  received  about  a  fourth  part  of  my  original 
stock.  This,  as  may  be  supposed,  was  a  bitter  disappoint 
ment  to  me ;  for  I  had  every  -reason  to  think  that  I  had  not 
only  invested  my  money  well,  but  very  profitably,  judging 
from  the  profits  of  the  other  boats  on  the  lake.  Had  I  received 
the  proceeds  of  my  commission,  and  bought  bank  stock  in  the 
colony — which  then  and  still  yields  eight  per  cent. — my  £700 
sterling,  equal  to  £840  currency,  would  have  given  me  £60 
per  annum,  which,  with  my  own  labour,  would  have  kept  my 
family  tolerably  well,  have  helped  to  pay  servants,  and  have 
saved  us  all  much  privation  and  harassing  anxiety. 

Having  thus  supplied  the  painful  details  of  a  transaction, 
a  knowledge  of  which  was  necessary  to  explain  many  circum 
stances  in  our  situation,  otherwise  unintelligible,  I  shall  pro 
ceed  with  my  narrative. 

The  government  did  not  carry  out  its  intention  with 
respect  to  half-pay  officers  in  the  colonies ;  but  many  officers, 
like  myself,  had  already  sold  their  commissions,  under  the 
apprehension  of  being  compelled  to  accept  this  hard  alter 
native.  I  was  suddenly  thrown  on  my  own  resources,  to 
support  a  helpless  and  increasing  family,  without  any  regular 
income.  I  had  this  consolation,  however,  under  my  misfor- 


208  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

tune,  that  I  had  acted  from  the  best  motives,  and  without  the 
most  remote  idea  that  I  was  risking  the  comfort  and  happiness 
of  those  depending  upon  me.  I  found  very  soon,  that  I  had 
been  too  precipitate,  as  people  often  are  in  extraordinary  po 
sitions;  though,  had  the  result  been  more  fortunate,  most 
people  would  have  commended  my  prudence  and  foresight. 
We  determined,  however,  to  bear  up  manfully  against  our 
ill-fortune,  and  trust  to  that  Providence  which  never  deserts 
those  who  do  not  forget  their  own  duties  in  trying  circum 
stances. 

It  is  curious  how,  on  such  occasions,  some  stray  stanzas, 
which  hang  about  the  outskirts  of  the  memory,  will  suddenly 
come  to  your  aid.  Thus,  I  often  caught  myself  humming 
over  some  of  the  verses  of  that  excellent  moral  song,  "  The 
Pilot,"  and  repeating,  with  a  peculiar  emphasis,  the  conclu 
ding  lines  of  each  stanza, 

"  Fear  not !  but  trust  in  Providence, 
Wherever  thou  rnay'st  be." 

Such  songs  do  good ;  and  a  peculiar  blessing  seems  to  attend 
every  composition,  in  prose  or  verse,  which  inculcates  good 
moral  sentiments,  or  tends  to  strengthen  our  virtuous  resolu 
tions.  This  fine  song,  I  feel  assured,  will  live  embalmed  in 
the  memory  of  mankind  long  after  the  sickly,  affected,  and 
unnatural  ditties  of  its  author  have  gone  to  their  merited  ob 
livion.  Sometimes,  however,  in  spite  of  my  good  resolutions, 
when  left  alone,  the  dark  clouds  of  despondency  would  close 
around  me,  and  I  could  not  help  contrasting  the  happy  past 
in  our  life  with  my  gloomy  anticipations  of  the  future.  Sleep, 
which  should  bring  comfort  and  refreshment,  often  only  aggra 
vated  my  painful  regrets,  by  recalling  scenes  which  had  nearly 
escaped  my  waking  memory.  In  such  a  mood  the  following 
verses  were  written  : — 


OE,  LET  ME  SLEEP!  209 


OH,  LET  ME  SLEEP ! 

Oh,  let  me  sleep !  nor  wake  to  sadness 
The  heart  that,  sleeping,  dreams  of  gladness; 
For  sleep  is  death,  without  the  pain — 
Then  wake  me  not  to  life  again. 
Oh,  let  me  sleep  !  nor  break  the  spell 
That  soothes  the  captive  in  his  cell; 
That  bursts  his  chains,  and  sets  him  free, 
To  revel  in  his  liberty. 

Loved  scenes,  array'd  in  tenderest  hue, 
Now  rise  in  beauty  to  my  view  ; 
And  long-lost  friends  around  me  stand, 
Or,  smiling,  grasp  my  willing  hand. 
Again  I  seek  my  island  home ; 
Along  the  silent  bays  I  roam, 
Or,  seated  on  the  rocky  shore, 
I  hear  the  angry  surges  roar. 

And  oh,  how  sweet  the  music  seems 
I've  heard  amid  my  blissful  dreams! 
But  of  the  sadly  pleasing  strains, 
Naught  save  the  thrilling  sense  remains. 
Those  sounds  so  loved  in  scenes  so  dear, 
Still — still  they  murmur  in  my  ear : 
But  sleep  alone  can  bless  the  sight 
With  forms  that  fade  with  morning's  light. 

J.  W.  D.  M. 


Many  versions  have  been  given  of  the  following  song,  and 
it  has  been  set  to  music  in  the  States.  I  here  give  the 
original  copy,  written  whilst  leaning  on  the  open  door  of 
my  shanty,  and  watching  for  the  return  of  my  husband. 


210  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


THE   SLEIGH-BELLS. 

'Tis  merry  to  hear,  at  evening  time, 
By  the  blazing  hearth  the  sleigh-bells  chime ; 
To  know  the  bounding  steeds  bring  near 
The  loved  one  to  our  bosoms  dear. 
Ah,  lightly  we  spring  the  fire  to  raise, 
Till  the  rafters  glow  with  the  ruddy  blaze ; 
Those  merry  sleigh-bells,  our  hearts  keep  time 
Besponsive  to  their  fairy  chime. 
Ding-dong,  ding-dong,  o'er  valley  and  hill, 
Their  welcome  notes  are  trembling  still. 

'Tis  he,  and  blithely  the  gay  bells  sound, 
As  glides  his  sleigh  o'er  the  frozen  ground ; 
Hark  !  he  has  pass'd  the  clai-k  pine  wood, 
He  crosses  now  the  ice-bound  flood, 
And  hails  the  light  at  the  open  door 
That  tells  his  toilsome  journey  's  o'er. 
The  merry  sleigh-bells  !    My  fond  heart  swells 
And  throbs  to  hear  the  welcome  bells  ; 
Ding-dong,  ding-dong,  o'er  ice  and  snow, 
A  voice  of  gladness,  on  they  go. 

Our  hut  is  small,  and  rude  our  cheer, 
But  love  has  spread  the  banquet  here ; 
And  childhood  springs  to  be  caress'd 
By  our  beloved  and  welcome  guest. 
"With  a  smiling  brow,  his  tale  he  tells, 
The  urchins  ring  the  merry  sleigh-bells ; 
The  merry  sleigh-bells,  with  shout  and  song 
They  drag  the  noisy  string  along ; 
Ding-dong,  ding-dong,  the  father  's  come, 
The  gay  bells  ring  his  welcome  home. 

From  ths  cedar  swamp  the  gaunt  wolves  howl, 
From  the  oak  loud  whoops  the  felon  owl ; 


THE  SLEIGH-BELLS.  211 

The  snow-storm  sweeps  in  thunder  past, 
The  forest  creaks  beneath  the  blast ; 
The  more  I  list,  with  boding  fear, 
The  sleigh-bells'  distant  chime  to  hear. 
The  merry  sleigh-bells,  with  soothing  power 
Shed  gladness  on  the  evening  hour. 
Ding-dong,  ding-dong,  what  rapture  swells 
The  music  of  those  joyous  bells ! 


END    OF   VOL.    I. 


KOUGHING  IT  II  THE  BUSH; 


OR, 


LIFE   IN  CANADA. 


BY        SUSANNA        MOODIE, 


I  sketch  from  Nature,  and  the  picture's  true ; 
Whate'tr  the  subject,  whether  grave  or  gay, 
Painful  experience  in  a  distant  land 
Miiclo  it  mine  own. 


IN       TWO       P  A  R  T  S  ....P  A  R  T       II. 


GEORGE  P.  PUTNAM,  10  PARK  PLACE. 

M.DCCC.LII, 


CONTENTS   OF  VOL.   II. 


PASS 

A  JOURNEY   TO   THE   WOODS,     .     ' 5 

THE    WILDERNESS,    AND    OUR    INDIAN   FRIENDS,                ....  20 
BURNING   THE   FALLOW,                .            .            .            .*                      .            .            .50 

OUR   LOGGING-BEE, 58 

A   TRIP   TO   STONY   LAKE, 72 

DISAPPOINTED   HOPES,      . 87 

THE   LITTLE   STUMPY   MAN,         .            . 101 

THE   FIRE, 123 

THE   OUTBREAK, 143 

THE   WHIRLWIND, 161 

THE   WALK  TO    DUMMER, 169 

A   CHANGE   IN   OUR   PROSPECTS, 197 

THE   MAGIC   SPELL, ,  209 


ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTER    I. 

I 

A    JOURNEY     TO     THE     WOODS. 

'Tis  well  for  us  poor  denizens  of  earth          0 
That  God  conceals  the  future  from  our  gaze  ; 
Or  Hope,  the  blessed  watcher  on  Life's  tower, 
Would  fold  her  wings,  and  on  the  dreary  waste 
Close  the  bright  eye  that  through  the  murky  clouds 
Of  blank  Despair  still  seea  the  glorious  sun. 

IT  was  a  bright,  frosty  morning  when  I  bade  adieu  to  the 
farm,  the  birthplace  of  my  little  Agnes,  who,  nestled 
beneath  my  cloak,  was  sweetly  sleeping  on  my  knee, 
unconscious  of  the  long  journey  before  us  into  the  wilderness. 
The  sun  had  not  as  yet  risen.  Anxious  to  get  to  our  place 
of  destination  before  dark,  we  started  as  early  as  we  could. 
Our  own  fine  team  had  been  sold  the  day  before  for  forty 

pounds;  and  one  of  our  neighbours,  a  Mr.  D ,  was  to 

convey  us  and  our  household  goods  to  Douro  for  the  sum  of 
twenty  dollars.  During  the  week  he  had  made  several  jour 
neys,  with  furniture  and  stores ;  and  all  that  now  remained 
was  to  be  conveyed  to  the  woods  in  two  large  lumber-sleighs, 
one  driven  by  himself,  the  other  by  a  younger  brother. 


6  ROUGHING  IT  IN  TEE  BUSH. 

It  was  not  without  regret  that  I  left  Melsetter,  for  so  my 
husband  had  called  the  place,  after  his  father's  estate  in  Ork 
ney.  It  was  a  beautiful,  picturesque  spot ;  and,  in  spite  of  the 
evil  neighbourhood,  I  had  learned  to  love  it ;  indeed,  it  was 
much  against  my  wish  that  it  was  sold.  I  had  a  great  dislike 
to  removing,  which  involves  a  necessary  loss,  and  is  apt  to 
give  to  the  emigrant  roving  and  unsettled  habits.  But  all 
regrets  were  now  useless ;  and  happily  unconscious  of  the  life 
of  toil  and  anxiety  that  awaited  us  in  those  dreadful  woods,  I 
tried  my  best  to  be  cheerful,  and  to  regard  the  future  with  a 
hopeful  eye. 

Our  driver  was  a  shrewd,  clever  man,  for  his  opportunities. 
He  took  charge  of  the  living  cargo,  which  consisted  of  my  hus 
band,  our  maid-servant,  the  two  little  children,  and  myself — 
besides  a  large  hamper,  full  of  poultry — a  dog,  and  a  cat. 
The  lordly  sultan  *>f  the  imprisoned  seraglio  thought  fit  to 
conduct  himself  in  a  very  eccentric  manner,  for  at  every  barn 
yard  we  happened  to  pass,  he  clapped  his  wings,  and  crowed 
so  long  and  loud  that  it  afforded  great  amusement  to  the 
whole  party,  and  doubtless  was  very  edifying  to  the  poor 
hens,  who  lay  huddled  together  as  mute  as  mice. 

"  That  'ere  rooster  thinks  he's  on  the  top  of  the  heap,"  said 
our  driver,  laughing.  "  I  guess  he's  not  used  to  travelling  in 
a  close  conveyance.  Listen!  How  all  the  crowers  in  the 
neighbourhood  give  him  back  a  note  of  defiance !  But  he 
knows  that  he's  safe  enough  at  the  bottom  of  the  basket." 

The  day  was  so  bright  for  the  time  of  year  (the  first  week 
in  February),  that  we  suffered  no  inconvenience  from  the  cold. 
Little  Katie  was  enchanted  with  the  jingling  of  the  sleigh-bells, 
and,  nestled  among  the  packages,  kept  singing  or  talking  to 
the  horses  in  her  baby  lingo.  Trifling  as  these  little  inci 
dents  were,  before  we  had  proceeded  ten  miles  on  our  long 
journey,  they  revived  my  drooping  spirits,  and  I  began  to 


A  JOURNEY  TO  THE   WOODS.  7 

feel  a  lively  interest  in  the  scenes  through  which  we  were 
passing. 

The  first  twenty  miles  of  the  way  was  over  a  hilly  and 
well-cleared  country ;  and  as  in  winter  the  deep  snow  fills  up 
the  inequalities,  and  makes  all  roads  alike,  we  glided  as  swift 
ly  and  steadily  along  as  if  they  had  been  the  best  highways 
in  the  world.  Anon,  the  clearings  began  to  diminish,  and  tall 
woods  arose  on  either  side  of  the  path ;  their  solemn  aspect, 
and  the  deep  silence  that  brooded  over  their  vast  solitudes, 
inspiring  the  mind  with  a  strange  awe.  Not  a  breath  of  wind 
stirred  the  leafless  branches,  whose  huge  shadows,  reflected 
upon  the  dazzling  white  covering  of  snow,  lay  so  perfectly 
still,  that  it  seemed  as  if  Nature  had  suspended  her  opera 
tions,  that  life  and  motion  had  ceased,  and  that  she  was  sleep 
ing  in  her  winding-sheet,  upon  the  bier  of  death. 

"  I  guess  you  will  find  the  woods  pretty  lonesome,"  said 
our  driver,  whose  thoughts  had  been  evidently  employed  on 
the  same  subject  as  our  own.  "  We  were  once  in  the  woods, 
but  emigration  has  stepped  ahead  of  us,  and  made  our'n  a 
cleared  part  of  the  country.  When  I  was  a  boy,  all  this 
country,  for  thirty  miles  on  every  side  of  us,  was  bush  land. 
As  to  Peterborough,  the  place  was  unknown ;  not  a  settler 
had  ever  passed  through  the  great  swamp,  and  some  of  them 
believed  that  it  was  the  end  of  the  world." 

"  What  swamp  is  that  ?"  asked  I. 

"  Oh,  the  great  Cavan  swamp.  We  are  just  two  miles 
from  it ;  and  I  tell  you  the  horses  will  need  a  good  rest,  and 
ourselves  a  good  dinner,  by  the  time  we  are  through  it.  Ah ! 
Mrs.  Moodie,  if  ever  you  travel  that  way  in  summer,  you 
will  know  something  about  corduroy  roads.  I  was  'most 
jolted  to  death  last  fall;  I  thought  it  would  have  been  no 

bad  notion  to  have  insured  my  teeth  before  I  left  C . 

I  really  expected  that  they  would  have  been  shook  out 


8  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

of  my  head  before  we  had  done  manoeuvring  over  the  big 
logs." 

"  How  will  my  crockery  stand  it  in  the  next  sleigh  ?" 
quoth  I.  "  If  the  road  is  such  as  you  describe,  I  am  afraid 
that  I  shall  not  bring  a  whole  plate  to  Douro." 

"  Oh !  the  snow  is  a  great  leveller — it  makes  all  rough 
places  smooth.  But  with  regard  to  this  swamp,  I  have  some 
thing  to  tell  you.  About  ten  years  ago,  no  one  had  ever  seen 
the  other  side  of  it ;  and  if  pigs  or  cattle  strayed  away  into 
it,  they  fell  a  prey  to  the  wolves  and  bears,  and  were  seldom 
recovered. 

"  An  old  Scotch  emigrant,  who  had  located  himself  on  this 
side  of  it,  so  often  lost  his  beasts  that  he  determined  during 
the  summer  season  to  try  and  explore  the  place,  and  see  if 
there  were  any  end  to  it.  So  he  takes  an  axe  on  his  shoul 
der,  and  a  bag  of  provisions  for  the  week,  not  forgetting  a 
flask  of  whiskey,  and  off  he  starts  all  alone,  and  tells  his  wife 
that  if  he  never  returned,  she  and  little  Jock  must  try  and 
carry  on  the  farm  without  him ;  but  he  was  determined  to 
see  the  end  of  the  swamp,  even  if  it  led  to  the  other  world. 
He  fell  upon  a  fresh  cattle-track,  which  he  followed  all  that 
day ;  and  towards  night  he  found  himself  in  the  heart  of  a 
tangled  wilderness  of  bushes,  and  himself  half  eaten  up  with 
mosquitoes  and  black-flies.  He  was  more  than  tempted  to 
give  in,  and  return  home  by  the  first  glimpse  of  light. 

"  The  Scotch  are  a  tough  people ;  they  are  not  easily  daunted 
— a  few  difficulties  only  seem  to  make  them  more  eager  to 
get  on;  and  he  felt  ashamed  the  next  moment,  as  he  told  me, 
of  giving  up.  So  he  finds  out  a  large,  thick  cedar-tree  for  his 
bed,  climbs  up,  and  coiling  himself  among  the  branches  like  a 
bear,  he  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

"  The  next  morning,  by  daylight,  he  continued  his  journey, 
not  forgetting  to  blaze  with  his  axe  the  trees  to  the  right  and 


A  JOURNEY  TO   THE  WOODS.  9 

left  as  he  went  along.  The  ground  was  so  spongy  and  wet 
that  at  every  step  he  plunged  up  to  his  knees  in  wate**,  but  he 
seemed  no  nearer  the  end  of  the  swamp  than  he  had  been  the 
day  before.  He  saw  several  deer,  a  raccoon,  and  a  ground 
hog,  during  his  walk,  but  was  unmolested  by  bears  or  wolves. 
Having  passed  through  several  creeks,  and  killed  a  great  many 
snakes,  he  felt  so  weary  towards  the  second  day  that  he  de 
termined  to  go  home  the  next  morning.  But  just  as  he  began 
to  think  his  search  was  fruitless,  he  observed  that  the  cedars 
and  tamaracks  which  had  obstructed  his  path  became  less 
numerous,  and  were  succeeded  by  bass  and  soft  maple.  The 
ground,  also,  became  less  moist,  and  he  was  soon  ascending  a 
rising  slope,  covered  with  oak  and  beech,  which  shaded  land 
of  the  very  best  quality.  The  old  man  was  now  fully  con 
vinced  that  he  had  cleared  the  great  swamp ;  and  that,  instead 
of  leading  to  the  other  world,  it  had  conducted  him  to 
a  country  that  would  yield  the  very  best  returns  for  cultiva 
tion.  His  favourable  report  led  to  the  formation  of  the  road 
that  we  are  about  to  cross,  and  to  the  settlement  of  Peter 
borough,  which  is  one  of  the  most  promising  new  settlements 
in  this  district,  and  is  surrounded  by  a  splendid  back  country." 
We  were  descending  a  very  steep  hill,  and  encountered  an 
ox-sleigh,  which  was  crawling  slowly  up  it  in  a  contrary  direc 
tion.  Three  people  were  seated  at  the  bottom  of  the  vehicle 
upon  straw,  which  made  a  cheap  substitute  for  buffalo  robes. 
Perched,  as  we  were,  upon  the  crown  of  the  height,  we 
looked  completely  down  into  the  sleigh,  and  during  the  whole 
course  of  my  life  I  never  saw  three  uglier  mortals  collected 
into  such  a  narrow  space.  The  man  was  blear-eyed,  with  a 
hare-lip,  through  which  protruded  two  dreadful  yellow  teeth 
which  resembled  the  tusks  of  a  boar.  The  woman  was  long- 
faced,  high  cheek-boned,  red-haired,  and  freckled  all  over  like 
a  toad.  The  boy  resembled  his  hideous  mother,  but  with  the 

VOL.  II  1* 


10  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

addition  of  a  villainous  obliquity  of  vision  which  rendered  him 
the  most  disgusting  object  in  this  singular  trio. 

As  we  passed  them,  our  driver  gave  a  knowing  nod  to 
my  husband,  directing,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  quizzical 
glance  towards  the  strangers,  as  he  exclaimed,  "  We  are  in 
luck,  sir !  I  think  that  'ere  sleigh  may  be  called  Beauty's  egg- 
basket  !" 

We  made  ourselves  very  merry  at  the  poor  people's  ex 
pense,  and  Mr.  D ,  with  his  odd  stories  and  Yankeefied 

expressions,  amused  the  tedium  of  our  progress  through  the 
great  swamp,  which  in  summer  presents  for  several  miles  one 
uniform  bridge  of  rough  and  unequal  logs,  all  laid  loosely 
across  huge  sleepers,  so  that  they  jumped  up  and  down,  when 
pressed  by  the  wheels,  like  the  keys  of  a  piano.  The  rough 
motion  and  jolting  occasioned  by  this  collision  is  so  distress 
ing  that  it  never  fails  to  entail  upon  the  traveller  sore  bones 
and  an  aching  head  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  The  path  is  so 
narrow  over  these  logs  that  two  wagons  cannot  pass  without 
great  difficulty,  which  is  rendered  more  dangerous  by  the  deep 
natural  ditches  on  either  side  of  the  bridge,  formed  by  broad 
creeks  that  flow  out  of  the  swamp,  and  often  terminate  in 
mud-holes  of  very  ominous  dimensions.  The  snow,  however, 

hid  from  us  all  the  ugly  features  of  the  road,  and  Mr.  D 

steered  us  through  it  in  perfect  safety,  and  landed  us  at  the 
door  of  a  little  log  house  which  crowned  the  steep  hill  on  the 
other  side  of  the  swamp,  and  which  he  dignified  with  the  name 
of  a  tavern. 

It  was  now  two  o'clock.  We  had  been  on  the  road  since 
seven ;  and  men,  women,  and  children  were  all  ready  for  the 

good  dinner  that  Mr.  D had  promised  us  at  this  splendid 

house  of  entertainment,  where  we  were  destined  to  stay  for 
two  hours,  to  refresh  ourselves  and  rest  the  horses. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  J ,  what  have  you  got  for  our  dinner  ?" 


A  JOURNEY  TO   THE  WOODS.  11 

said  the  driver,  after  he  had  seen  to  the  accommodation  of  his 
teams. 

"  Fritters  and  pork,  sir.  Nothing  else  to  be  had  in  the 
woods.  Thank  God,  we  have  enough  of  that!" 

D shrugged  up  his  shoulders,  and  looked  at  us. 

"  We've  plenty  of  that  same  at  home.  But  hunger's  good 
sauce.  Come,  be  spry,  widow,  and  see  about  it,  for  I  am  very 
hungry." 

I  inquired  for  a  private  room  for  myself  and  the  children, 
but  there  were  no  private  rooms  in  the  house.  The  apart 
ment  we  occupied  was  like  the  cobbler's  stall  in  the  old  song, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  attend  upon  them  in  public. 

"  You  have  much  to  learn,  ma'am,  if  you  are  going  to  the 
woods,"  said  Mrs.  J . 

"  To  unlearn,  you  mean,"  said  Mr.  D .  "  To  tell  you 

the  truth.  Mrs.  Moodie,  ladies  and  gentlemen  have  no  business 
in  the  woods.  Eddication  spoils  man  or  woman  for  that  loca 
tion.  So,  widow  (turning  to  our  hostess),  you  are  not  tired 
of  living  alone  yet  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  have  no  wish  for  a  second  husband.  I  had 
enough  of  the  first.  I  like  to  have  my  own  way — to  lie  down 
mistress,  and  get  up  master." 

"  You  don't  like  to  be  put  out  of  your  old  way,"  returned 
he,  with  a  mischievous  glance. 

She  coloured  very  red ;  but  it  might  be  the  heat  of  the 
fire  over  which  she  was  frying  the  pork  for  our  dinner. 

I  was  very  hungry,  but  I  felt  no  appetite  for  the  dish 
she  was  preparing  for  us.  It  proved  salt,  hard,  and  unsa 
voury. 

D pronounced  it  very  bad,  and  the  whiskey  still 

worse,  with  which  he  washed  it  down. 

I  asked  for  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  slice  of  bread.  But  they 
were  out  of  tea,  and  the  hop-rising  had  failed,  and  there  was 


12  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  3USH. 

no  bread  in  the  house.  For  this  disgusting  meal  we  paid  at 
the  rate  of  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  a-head. 

I  was  glad  when,  the  horses  being  again  put  to,  we  escaped 
from  the  rank  odour  of  the  fried  pork,  and  were  once  more  in 
the  fresh  air. 

"  Well,  mister ;  did  not  you  grudge  your  money  for  that 

bad  meat  ?"  said  D ,  when  we  were  once  more  seated  in 

the  sleigh.  "  But  in  these  parts,  the  worse  the  fare  the  higher 
the  charge." 

"  I  would  not  have  cared,"  said  I,  "  if  I  could  have  got  a 
cup  of  tea." 

"  Tea  !  it's  poor  trash.  I  never  could  drink  tea  in  my  life. 
But  I  like  coffee,  wThen  'tis  boiled  till  it's  quite  black.  But 
coffee  is  not  good  without  plenty  of  trimmings." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  trimmings  "?" 

He  laughed.  "  Good  sugar,  and  sweet  cream.  Coffee  is 
not  worth  drinking  without  trimmings." 

Often  in  after  years  have  I  recalled  the  coffee  trimmings, 
when  endeavouring  to  drink  the  vile  stuff  which  goes  by  the 
name  of  coffee  in  the  houses  of  entertainment  in  the  country. 

We  had  now  passed  through  the  narrow  strip  of  clearing 
wThich  surrounded  the  tavern,  and  again  entered  upon  the 
woods.  It  was  near  sunset,  and  we  were  rapidly  descending 
a  steep  hill,  when  one  of  the  traces  that  held  our  sleigh  sud 
denly  broke.  D pulled  up  in  order  to  repair  the  damage. 

His  brother's  team  was  close  behind,  and  our  unexpected 

stand-still  brought  the  horses  upon  us  before  J.  D could 

stop  them.  I  received  so  violent  a  blow  from  the  head  of 
one  of  them,  just  in  the  back  of  the  neck,  that  for  a  few 
minutes  I  was  stunned  and  insensible.  When  I  recovered,  I 
was  supported  in  the  arms  of  rny  husband,  over  whose  knees 

I  was  leaning,  and  D was  rubbing  my  hands  and  temples 

with  snow. 


A  JOURNEY  TO  TEE  WOODS.  13 

"  There,  Mr.  Moodie,  she's  coming  to.  I  thought  she  was 
killed.  I  have  seen  a  man  before  now  killed  by  a  blow  from 
a  horse's  head  in  the  like  manner."  As  soon  as  we  could,  we 
resumed  our  places  in  the  sleigh ;  but  all  enjoyment  of  our 
journey,  had  it  been  otherwise  possible,  was  gone. 

When  we  reached  Peterborough,  Moodie  wished  us  to 
remain  at  the  inn  all  night,  as  we  had  still  eleven  miles  of  our 
journey  to  perform,  and  that  through  a  blazed  forest-road, 
little  travelled,  and  very  much  impeded  by  fallen  trees  and 

other  obstacles  ;  but  D was  anxious  to  get  back  as  soon 

as  possible  to  his  own  home,  and  he  urged  us  very  pathetically 
to  proceed. 

The  moon  arose  during  our  stay  at  the  inn,  and  gleamed 
upon  the  straggling  frame  houses  which  then  formed  the  now 
populous  and  thriving  town  of  Peterborough.  We  crossed 
the  wild,  rushing,  beautiful  Otonabee  river  by  a  rude  bridge, 
and  soon  found  ourselves  journeying  over  the  plains  or  level 
heights  beyond  the  village,  which  were  thinly  wooded  with 
picturesque  groups  of  oak  and  pine,  and  very  much  resembled 
a  gentleman's  park  at  home.  Far  below,  to  our  right  (for  we 
were  upon  the  Smith-town  side)  we  heard  the  rushing  of  the 
river,  whose  rapid  waters  never  receive  curb  from  the  iron 
chain  of  winter.  Even  while  the  rocky  banks  are  coated  with 
ice,  and  the  frost-king  suspends  from  every  twig  and  branch 
the  most  beautiful  and  fantastic  crystals,  the  black  waters 
rush  foaming  along,  a  thick  steam  rising  constantly  above  the 
rapids,  as  from  a  boiling  pot.  The  shores  vibrate  and  tremble 
beneath  the  force  of  the  impetuous  flood,  as  it  whirls  round 
cedar-crowned  islands  and  opposing  rocks,  and  hurries  on  to 
pour  its  tribute  into  the  Rice  Lake,  to  swell  the  calm,  majestic 
grandeur  of  the  Trent,  till  its  waters  are  lost  in  the  beautiful 
bay  of  Quinte,  and  finally  merged  in  the  blue  ocean  of 
Ontario. 


14  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH, 

The  most  renowned  of  our  English  rivers  dwindle  into  lit 
tle  muddy  rills  when  compared  with  the  sublimity  of  the 
Canadian  waters.  No  language  can  adequately  express  the 
solemn  grandeur  of  her  lake  and  river  scenery  ;  the  glorious 
islands  that  float,  like  visions  from  fairy  land,  upon  the  bosom 
of  these  azure  mirrors  of  her  cloudless  skies.  No  dreary 
breadth  of  marshes,  covered  with  flags,  hide  from  our  gaze 
the  expanse  of  heaven-tinted  waters ;  no  foul  mud-banks 
spread  their  unwholesome  exhalations  around.  The  rocky 
shores  are  crowned  with  the  cedar,  the  birch,  the  alder,  and 
soft  maple,  that  dip  their  long  tresses  in  the  pure  stream ; 
from  every  crevice  in  the  limestone  the  harebell  and  Canadian 
rose  wave  their  graceful  blossoms. 

The  fiercest  droughts  of  summer  may  diminish  the  volume 
and  power  of  these  romantic  streams,  but  it  never  leaves  their 
rocky  channels  bare,  nor  checks  the  mournful  music  of  their 
dancing  waves.  Through  the  openings  in  the  forest,  we  now 
and  then  caught  the  silver  gleam  of  the  river  tumbling  on  in 
moonlight  splendour,  while  the  hoarse  chiding  of  the  wind  in 
the  lofty  pines  above  us  gave  a  fitting  response  to  the  melan 
choly  cadence  of  the  waters. 

The  children  had  fallen  asleep.  A  deep  silence  pervaded 
the  party.  Night  was  above  us  with  her  mysterious  stars. 
The  ancient  forest  stretched  around  us  on  every  side,  and  a 
foreboding  sadness  sunk  upon  my  heart.  Memory  was  busy 
with  the  events  of  many  years.  I  retraced  step  by  step  the 
pilgrimage  of  my  past  life,  until  arriving  at  that  passage  in 
its  sombre  history,  I  gazed  through  tears  upon  the  singularly 
savage  scene  around  me,  and  secretly  marvelled,  "What 
brought-  me  here  ?' 

"  Providence,"  was  the  answer  which  the  soul  gave.  "  Not 
for  your  own  welfare,  perhaps,  but  for  the  welfare  of  your 
children,  the  unerring  hand  of  the  great  Father  has  led  you 


A  JOURNEY  TO   THE  WOODS.  15 

here.  You  form  a  connecting  link  in  the  destinies  of  many. 
It  is  impossible  for  any  human  creature  to  live  for  himself 
alone.  It  may  be  your  lot  to  suffer,  but  others  will  reap  a 
benefit  from  your  trials.  Look  up  with  confidence  to  Heaven, 
and  the  sun  of  hope  will  yet  shed  a  cheering  beam  through 
the  forbidden  depths  of  this  tangled  wilderness." 

The  road  became  so  bad  that  Mr.  D was  obliged  to 

dismount,  and  lead  his  horses  through  the  more  intricate  pas 
sages.  The  animals  themselves,  weary  with  their  long  jour 
ney  and  heavy  load,  proceeded  at  foot-fall.  The  moon,  too, 
had  deserted  us,  and  the  only  light  we  had  to  guide  us  through 
the  dim  arches  of  the  forest  was  from  the  snow  and  the  stars, 
which  now  peered  down  upon  us  through  the  leafless  branches 
of  the  trees,  with  uncommon  brilliancy. 

"  It  will  be  past  midnight  before  we  reach  your  brother's 
clearing,"  (where  we  expected  to  spend  the  night,)  said 

D .  "  I  wish,  Mr.  Moodie,  we  had  followed  your  advice, 

and  staid  at  Peterborough.  How  fares  it  with  you,  Mrs. 
Moodie,  and  the  young  ones  ?  It  is  growing  very  cold." 

We  were  now  in  the  heart  of  a  dark  cedar  swamp,  and  my 
mind  was  haunted  with  visions  of  wolves  and  bears ;  but  be 
yond  the  long,  wild  howl  of  a  solitary  wolf,  no  other  sound 
awoke  the  sepulchral  silence  of  that  dismal-looking  wood. 

"  What  a  gloomy  spot,"  said  I  to  my  husband.  "  In  the 
old  country,  superstition  would  people  it  with  ghosts." 

"  Ghosts !  There  are  no  ghosts  in  Canada  !"  said  Mr. 

D .  "  The  country  is  too  new  for  ghosts.  No  Canadian 

is  afeard  of  ghosts.  It  is  only  in  old  countries,  like  your'n, 
that  are  full  of  sin  and  wickedness,  that  people  believe  in  such 
nonsense*. '  No  human  habitation  has  ever  been  erected  in  this 
wood  through  which  you  are  passing.  Until  a  very  few  years 
ago,  few  white  persons  had  ever  passed  through  it ;  and  the 
Bed  Man  would  not  pitch  his  tent  in  such  a  place  as  this. 


16  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

Now,  ghosts,  as  I  understand  the  word,  are  the  spirits  of  bad 
men,  that  are  not  allowed  by  Providence  to  rest  in  their 
graves,  but,  for  a  punishment,  are  made  to  haunt  the  spots 
where  their  worst  deeds  were  committed.  I  don't  believe  in 
all  this ;  but,  supposing  it  to  be  true,  bad  men  must  have 
died  here  before  their  spirits  could  haunt  the  place.  Now,  it 
is  more  than  probable  that  no  person  ever  ended  his  days  in 
this  forest,  so  that  it  would  be  folly  to  think  of  seeing  his 
ghost." 

This  theory  of  Mr.  D 's  had  the  merit  of  originality, 

and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  utter  disbelief  in  supernatu 
ral  appearances,  which  is  common  to  most  native-born  Cana 
dians,  is  the  result  of  the  same  very  reasonable  mode  of 
arguing.  The  unpeopled  wastes  of  Canada  must  present  the 
same  aspect  to  the  new  settler  that  the  world  did  to  our  first 
parents  after  their  expulsion  from  the  garden  of  Eden  ;  all  the 
sin  which  could  defile  the  spot,  or  haunt  it  with  the  association 
of  departed  evil,  is  concentrated  in  their  own  persons.  Bad 
spirits  cannot  be  supposed  to  linger  near  a  place  where  crime 
has  never  been  committed.  The  belief  in  ghosts,  so  prevalent 
in  old  countries,  must  first  have  had  its  foundation  in  the  con 
sciousness  of  guilt. 

After  clearing  this  low,  swampy  portion  of  the  wood,  with 
much  difficulty,  and  the  frequent  application  of  the  axe,  to  cut 
away  the  fallen  timber  that  impeded  our  progress,  our  ears 
were  assailed  by  a  low,  roaring,  rushing  sound,  as  of  the 
falling  of  waters. 

"  That  is  Herriot's  Falls,"  said  our  guide.  "  We  are 
within  two  miles  of  our  destination." 

Oh,  welcome  sound !  But  those  two  miles  appeared  more 
lengthy  than  the  whole  journey.  Thick  clouds,  that  threatened 
a  snow-storm,  had  blotted  out  the  stars,  and  we  continued  to 
grope  our  way  through  a  narrow,  rocky  path,  upon  the  edge 


A 'JOUR NET  TO  THE  WOODS.  17 

of  the  river,  in  almost  total  darkness.  I  now  felt  the  dullness 
of  the  midnight  hour,  and  the  fatigue  of  the  long  journey,  with 
double  force,  and  envied  the  servant  ancl  children,  who  had 
been  sleeping  ever  since  we  left  Peterborough.  We  now 
descended  the  steep  bank,  and  prepared  to  cross  the  rapids. 

Dark  as  it  was,  I  looked  with  a  feeling  of  dread  upon  the 
foaming  waters  as  they  tumbled  over  their  bed  of  rocks,  their 
white  crests  flashing,  life-like,  amid  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

"  This  is  an  ugly  bridge  over  such  a  dangerous  place,"  said 

D ,  as  he  stood  up  in  the  sleigh  and  urged  his  tired  team 

across  the  miserable,  insecure  log-bridge,  where  darkness  and 
death  raged  below,  and  one  false  step  of  his  jaded  horses 
would  have  plunged  us  into  both.  I  must  confess  I  drew  a 
freer  breath  when  the  bridge  was  crossed,  and  D congrat 
ulated  us  on  our  safe  arrival  in  Douro. 

We  now  continued  our  journey  along  the  left  bank  of  the 
river,  but  when  in  sight  of  Mr.  S 's  clearing,  a  large  pine- 
tree,  which  had  newly  fallen  across  the  narrow  path,  brought 
the  teams  to  a  stand-still.  The  mighty  trunk  which  had  lately 
formed  one  of  the  stately  pillars  in  the  sylvan  temple  of  Na 
ture,  was  of  too  large  dimensions  to  chop  in  two  with  axes ; 
and  after  half-an-hour's  labour,  which  to  me,  poor,  cold,  weary 
wight !  seemed  an  age,  the  males  of  the  party  abandoned 
the  task  in  despair.  To  go  round  it  was  impossible  ;  its  roots 
were  concealed  in  an  impenetrable  wall  of  cedar-jungle  on  the 
right-hand  side  of  the  road,  and  its  huge  branches  hung  over 
the  precipitous  bank  of  the  river. 

We  must  try  and  make  the  horses  jump  over  it,"  said 

D .  "  We  may  get  an  upset,  but  there  is  no  help  for  it ; 

we  must  either  make  the  experiment,  or  stay  here  all  night, 
and  I  am  too  cold  and  hungry  for  that — so  here  goes."  He 
urged  his  horses  to  leap  the  log ;  restraining  their  ardour  for  a 
moment  as  the  sleigh  rested  on  the  top  of  the  formidable 


18  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  EUSH. 

"barrier,  but  so  nicely  balanced,  that  the  difference  of  a  straw 
would  almost  have  overturned  the  heavily-laden  vehicle  and 
its  helpless  inmates.  -We,  however,  cleared  it  in  safety.  He 
now  stopped,  and  gave  directions  to  his  brother  to  follow  the 
same  plan  that  he  had  adopted ;  but  whether  the  young  man 
had  less  coolness,  or  the  horses  in  his  team  were  more  diffi 
cult  to  manage,  I  cannot  tell :  the  sleigh,  as  it  hung  poised 
upon  the  top  of  the  log,  was  overturned  with  a  loud  crash, 
and  all  my  household  goods  and  chattels  were  scattered  over 
the  road.  Alas,  for  my  crockery  and  stone  china !  scarcely 
one  article  remained  unbroken. 

"  Never  fret  about  the  china,"  said  Moodie  ;  "  thank  God, 
the  man  and  the  horses  are  uninjured." 

I  should  have  felt  more  thankful  had  the  crocks  been 
spared  too ;  for,  like  most  of  my  sex,  I  had  a  tender  regard 
for  china,  and  I  knew  that  no  fresh  supply  could  be  obtained 
in  this  part  of  the  world.  Leaving  his  brother  to  collect  the 

scattered  fragments,  D proceeded  on  his  journey.     We 

left  the  road,  and  were  winding  our  way  over  a  steep  hill, 
covered  with  heaps  of  brush  and  fallen  timber,  and  as  we 
reached  the  top,  a  light  gleamed  cheerily  from  the  windows 
of  a  log  house,  and  the  next  moment  we  were  at  my  brother's 
door. 

I  thought   my  journey  was  at  an  end;   but  here  I  was 
doomed  to  fresh  disappointment.     His  wife  was  absent  on  a, 
visit  to  her  friends,  and  it  had  been  arranged  that  we  were  to 
to  stay  with  my  sister,  Mrs.  T — = — ,  and  her  husband.     With, 
all  this  I  was  unacquainted ;  and  I  was  about  to  quit  the  sleigh 
and  seek  the  warmth  of  the  fire-when  I  was  told  that  I  had 
yet  further  to  go.     Its  cheerful  glow  was  to  shed  no  warmth . 
on  me,  and,  tired  as  I  was,  I  actually  buried  my  face  and  wept 
upon  the  neck  of  a  hound  which  Moodie  had  given  to  Mr. 
S ,  and  which  sprang  up  upon  the  sleigh  to  lick  my  face 


A  JOURNEY  TO  THE  WOODS.  19 

and  hands.  This  was  my  first  halt  in  that  weary  wilderness, 
where  I  endured  so  many  bitter  years  of  toil  and  sorrow.  My 
brother-in-law  and  his  family  had  retired  to  rest,  but  they  in 
stantly  rose  to  receive  the  way-worn  travellers  ;  and  I  never 
enjoyed  more  heartily  a  warm  welcome  after  a  long  day  of 
intense  fatigue,  than  I  did  that  night  of  my  first  sojourn  in 
the  backwoods. 


20  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE    WILDERNESS,    AND     OUR     INDIAN     FRIENDS. 

fTlHE  clouds  of  the  preceding  night,  instead  of  dissolving 
J-  into  snow,  brought  on  a  rapid  thaw.  A  thaw  in  the 
middle  of  whiter  is  the  most  disagreeable  change  that  can  be 
imagined.  After  several  weeks  of  clear,  bright,  bracing,  frosty 
weather,  with  a  serene  atmosphere  and  cloudless  sky,  you  awake 
one  morning  surprised  at  the  change  in  the  temperature ;  and, 
upon  looking  out  of  the  window,  behold  the  woods  obscured 
by  a  murky  haze — not  so  dense  as  an  English  November  fog, 
but  more  black  and  lowering — and  the  heavens  shrouded  in  a 
uniform  covering  of  leaden-coloured  clouds,  deepening  into  a 
livid  indigo  at  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  The  snow,  no  longer 
hard  and  glittering,  has  become  soft  and  spongy,  and  the  foot 
slips  into  a  wet  and  insidiously-yielding  mass  at  every  step. 
From  the  roof  pours  down  a  continuous  stream  of  water,  and 
the  branches  of  the  trees  collecting  the  moisture  of  the  reek 
ing  atmosphere,  shower  it  upon  the  earth  from  every  dripping 
twig.  The  cheerless  and  uncomfortable  aspect  of  things  with 
out  never  fails  to  produce  a  corresponding  effect  upon  the 
minds  of  those  within,  and  casts  such  a  damp  upon  the  spirits 
that  it  appears  to  destroy  for  a  time  all  sense  of  enjoyment. 
Many  persons  (and  myself  among  the  number)  are  made 
aware  of  the  approach  of  a  thunder-storm  by  an  intense  pain 
and  weight  about  the  head ;  and  I  have  heard  numbers  of 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND   OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       21 

Canadians  complain  that  a  thaw  always  made  them  feel  bilious 
and  heavy,  and  greatly  depressed  their  animal  spirits. 

I  had  a  great  desire  to  visit  our  new  location,  but  when  I 
looked  out  upon  the  cheerless  waste,  I  gave  up  the  idea,  and 
contented  myself  with  hoping  for  a  better  day  on  the  morrow; 
but  many  morrows  came  and  went  before  a  frost  again  hard 
ened  the  road  sufficiently  for  me  to  make  the  attempt. 

The  prospect  from  the  windows  of  my  sister's  log  hut  was 
not  very  prepossessing.  The  small  lake  in  front,  which  formed 
such  a  pretty  object  in  summer,  now  looked  like  an  extensive 
field  covered  with  snow,  hemmed  in  from  the  rest  of  the 
world  by  a  dark  belt  of  sombre  pine-woods.  The  clearing 
round  the  house  was  very  small,  and  only  just  reclaimed  from 
the  wilderness,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  covered  with  piles 
of  brushwood,  to  be  burned  the  first  dry  days  of  spring.  The 
charred  and  blackened  stumps  on  the  few  acres  that  had  been 
cleared  during  the  preceding  year  were  every  thing  but  pic 
turesque;  and  I  concluded,  as  I  turned,  disgusted,  from  the 
prospect  before  me,  that  there  was  very  little  beauty  to  be 
found  in  the  backwoods.  But  I  came  to  this  decision  during 
a  Canadian  thaw,  be  it  remembered,  when  one  is  wont  to 
view  every  object  with  jaundiced  eyes.* 

Moodie  had  only  been  able  to  secure  sixty-six  acres  of  his 
government  grant  upon  the  Upper  Kutchawanook  Lake,  which, 
being  interpreted,  means  in  English,  the  "  Lake  of  the  Water 
falls,"  a  very  poetical  meaning,  which  most  Indian  names  have. 
He  had,  however,  secured  a  clergy  reserve  of  two  hundred 
acres  adjoining  ;  and  he  afterwards  purchased  a  fine  lot,  which 
likewise  formed  a  part  of  the  same  block,  one  hundred  acres, 
for  £150.*  This  was  an  enormously  high  price  for  wild  land ; 

*  After  a  lapse  of  fifteen  years,  we  have  been  glad  to  sell  these  lots  of 
land,  after  considerable  clearings  had  been  made  upon  them,  for  less  than 
they  originally  cost  us. 


22  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

but  the  prospect  of  opening  the  Trent  and  Otonabee  for  the 
navigation  of  steamboats  and  other  small  craft,  was  at  that 
period  a  favourite  speculation,  and  its  practicability,  and  the 
great  advantages  to  be  derived  from  it,  were  so  widely  be- 
lieved,  as  to  raise  the  value  of  the  wild  lands  along  these  re 
mote  waters  to  an  enormous  price ;  and  settlers  in  the  vi 
cinity  were  eager  to  secure  lots,  at  any  sacrifice,  along  their 
shores. 

Our  government  grant  was  upon  the  lake  shore,  and  Moo- 
die  had  chosen  for  the  site  of  his  log  house  a  bank  that  sloped 
gradually  from  the  edge  of  the  water,  until  it  attained  to  the 
dignity  of  a  hill.  Along  the  top  of  this  ridge,  the  forest-road 
ran,  and  midway  down  the  hill,  our  humble  home,  already 
nearly  completed,  stood,  surrounded  by  the  eternal  forest.  A 
few  trees  had  been  cleared  in  its  immediate  vicinity,  just  suffi 
cient  to  allow  the  workmen  to  proceed,  and  to  prevent  the 
fall  of  any  tree  injuring  the  building,  or  the  danger  of  its 
taking  fire  during  the  process  of  burning  the  fallow. 

A  neighbour  had  undertaken  to  build  this  rude  dwelling 
by  contract,  and  was  to  have  it  ready  for  us  by  the  first  week 
in  the  new  year.  The  want  of  boards  to  make  the  divisions 
in  the  apartments  alone  hindered  him  from  fulfilling  his  con 
tract.  These  had  lately  been  procured,  and  the  house  was  to 
be  ready  for  our  reception  in  the  course  of  a  week.  Our 

trunks  and  baggage  had  already  been  conveyed  by  Mr.  D 

hither ;  and  in  spite  of  my  sister's  kindness  and  hospitality,  I 
longed  to  find  myself  once  more  settled  in  a  home  of  my  own. 

The  day  after  our  arrival,  I  was  agreeably  surprised  by  a 
visit  from  Monaghan,  whom  Moodie  had  once  more  taken  into 
his  service.  The  poor  fellow  was  delighted  that  his  nurse- 
child,  as  he  always  called  little  Katie,  had  not  forgotten  him, 
but  evinced  the  most  lively  satisfaction  at  the  sight  of  her 
dark  friend. 


THE  WILD£SjymS3  AND   OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       23 

Early  every  morning,  Moodie  went  off  to  the  house  ;  and 
the  first  fine  day,  my  sister  undertook  to  escort  me  through 
the  wood,  to  inspect  it.  The  proposal  was  joyfully  accepted  ; 
and  although  I  felt  rathe?  timid  when  I  found  myself  with  only 
my  female  companion  in  the  vast  forest,  I  kept  'my  fears  to 
myself,  lest  I  should  be  laughed  at.  This  foolish  dread  of  en 
countering  wild  beasts  in  the  woods,  I  never  could  wholly 
shake  off,  even  after  becoming  a  constant  resident  in  their 
gloomy  depths,  and  accustomed  to  follow  the  forest-path, 
alone,  or  attended  with  little  children,  daily.  The  cracking  of 
an  old  bough,  or  the  hooting  of  the  owl,  was  enough  to  fill  me 
with  alarm,  and  try  my  strength  in  a  precipitate  flight.  Often 
have  I  stopped  and  reproached  myself  for  want  of  faith  in  the 
goodness  of  Providence,  and  repeated  the  text,  "  The  wicked 
are  afraid  when  no  man  pursueth :  but  the  righteous  are  as 
bold  as  a  lion,"  as  if  to  shame  myself  into  courage.  But  it 
would  not  do  ;  I  could  not  overcome  the  weakness  of  the 
flesh.  If  I  had  one  of  my  infants  with  me,  the  wish  to  pro 
tect  the  child  from  any  danger  which  might  beset  my  path 
gave  me  for  a  time  a  fictitious  courage  ;  but  it  was  like  love 
fighting  with  despair. 

It  was  in  vain  that  my  husband  assured  me  that  no  person 
had  ever  been  attacked  by  wild  animals  in  the  woods,  that  a 
child  might  traverse  them  even  at  night  in  safety  ;  whilst 
I  knew  that  wild  animals  existed  in  those  woods,  I  could  not 
believe  him,  and  my  fears  on  this  head  rather  increased  than 
diminished. 

The  snow  had  been  so  greatly  decreased  by  the  late 
thaw,  that  it  had  been  converted  into  a  coating  of  ice,  which 
afforded  a  dangerous  and  slippery  footing.  My  sister,  who 
had  resided  for  nearly  twelve  months  in  the  woods,  was  pro 
vided  for  her  walk  with  Indian  moccasins,  which  rendered 
her  quite  independent ;  but  I  stumbled  at  every  step.  The 


24  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

sun  shone  brightly,  the  air  was  clear  and  invigorating,  and,  in 
spite  of  the  treacherous  ground  and  my  foolish  fears,  I  greatly 
enjoyed  my  first  walk  in  the  woods.  Naturally  of  a  cheer 
ful,  hopeful  disposition,  my  sister  was  enthusiastic  in  her  ad 
miration  of  the  woods.  She  drew  such  a  lively  picture  of  the 
charms  of  a  summer  residence  in  the  forest  that  I  began  to 
feel  greatly  interested  in  her  descriptions,  and  to  rejoice  that 
we  too  were  to  be  her  near  neighbours  and  dwellers  in  the 
woods ;  and  this  circumstance  not  a  little  reconciled  me  to 
the  change. 

Hoping  that  my  husband  would  derive  an  income  equal  to 
the  one  he  had  parted  with  from  the  investment  of  the  price 
of  his  commission  in  the  steamboat  stock,  I  felt  no  dread  of 
want.  Our  legacy  of  £700  had  afforded  us  means  to  purchase 
land,  build  our  house,  and  give  out  a  large  portion  of  land  to 
be  cleared,  and,  with  a  considerable  sum  of  money  still  in 
hand,  our  prospects  for  the  future  were  in  no  way  discour 
aging. 

When  we  reached  the  top  of  the  ridge  that  overlooked  our 
cot,  my  sister  stopped,  arid  pointed  out  a  large  dwelling 

among  the  trees.  "  There,  S ,"  she  said,  "  is  your  home. 

When  that  black  cedar  swamp  is  cleared  away,  that  now 
hides  the  lake  from  us,  you  will  have  a  very  pretty  view." 
My  conversation  with  her  had  quite  altered  the  aspect  of  the 
country,  and  predisposed  me  to  view  things  in  the  most  favour 
able  light.  I  found  Moodie  and  Monaghan  employed  in 
piling  up  heaps  of  bush  near  the  house,  which  they  intended 
to  burn  off  by  hand  previous  to  firing  the  rest  of  the  fallow, 
to  prevent  any  risk  to  the  building  from  fire.  The  house 
was  made  of  cedar  logs,  and  presented  a  superior  air  of  com 
fort  to  most  dwellings  of  the  same  kind.  The  dimensions 
were  thirty-six  feet  in  length,  and  thirty-two  in  breadth,  which 
gave  us  a  nice  parlour,  a  kitchen,  and  two  small  bedrooms, 


TStt  WILDERNESS)  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       25 

which  were  divided  by  plank  partitions.  Pantry  or  storeroom 
there  was  none ;  some  rough  shelves  in  the  kitchen,  and  a 
deal  cupboard  in  a  corner  of  the  parlour,  being  the  extent  of 
our  accommodations  in  that  way. 

Our  servant,  Mary  Tate,  was  busy  scrubbing  out  the  par 
lour  and  bedroom ;  but  the  kitchen,  and  the  sleeping-room 
off  it,  were  still  knee-deep  in  chips,  and  filled  with  the  carpen 
ter's  bench  and  tools,  and  all  our  luggage.  Such  as  it  was,  ifc 
was  a  palace  when  compared  to  Old  Satan's  log  hut,  or  tho 
miserable  cabin  we  had  wintered  in  during  the  severe  winter 
of  1833,  arid  I  regarded  it  with  complacency  as  my  future 
home* 

While  we  were  standing  outside  the  building,  conversing 
with  my  husband,  a  young  gentleman,  of  the  name  of  Morgan, 
who  had  lately  purchased  land  in  that  vicinity,  went  into  the 
kitchen  to  light  his  pipe  at  the  stove,  and,  with  true  backwood 
carelessness,  let  the  hot  cinder  fall  among  the  dry  chips  that 
strewed  the  floor.  A  few  minutes  after,  the  whole  mass  was 
in  a  blaze,  and  it  was  not  without  great  difficulty  that  Moodie 

and  Mr.  R succeeded  in  putting  out  the  fire.  Thus  were 

we  nearly  deprived  of  our  home  before  we  had  taken  up  our 
abode  in  it. 

The  indifference  to  the  danger  of  fire  in  a  country  whero 
most  of  the  dwellings  are  composed  of  inflammable  materials, 
is  truly  astonishing.  Accustomed  to  see  enormous  fires  bla 
zing  on  every  hearth-stone,  and  to  sleep  in  front  of  these  fires, 
his  bedding  often  riddled  with  holes  made  by  hot  particles  of 
wood  flying  out  during  the  night,  and  igniting  beneath  his 
very  nose,  the  sturdy  backwoodsman  never  dreads  an  enemy 
in  the  element  that  he  is  used  to  regard  as  his  best  friend. 
Yet  what  awful  accidents,  what  ruinous  calamities  arise,  out 
of  this  criminal  negligence,  both  to  himself  and  others ! 

A  few  days  after  this  adventure,  we  bade  adieu  to  my  si> 
VOL.  ir.  2 


26  HOUGHING  IT  ET  TITS  ZUSff. 

ter,  and  took  possession  of  our  new  dwelling  and  eommenctrc! 
"  a  life  in  the  woods," 

The  first  spring  we  spent  in  comparative  ease  and  idleness, 
Our  cows  had  been  left  upon  our  old  place  during  the  winter. 
The  ground  had  to  be  cleared  "before  it  could  receive  a  crop 
of  any  kind,  and  I  had  Irttle  to  do  but  to  wander  by  the 
lake  shore,  or  among  the  woods,  and  amuse  myself.  These 
were  the  halcyon  days  of  the  bush.  My  husband  had  pur- 
chased  a  very  light  cedar  canoer  to  which  he  attached  a  keel 
and  a  sail ;  and  most  of  our  leisure  hours,  directly  the  snows 
melted,  were  spent  upon  the  water. 

These  fishing  and  shooting  excursions  were  delightful.  The 
pure  beauty  of  the  Canadian  water,  the  sombre  but  august 
grandeur  of  the  vast  forest  that  hemmed  us  in  on  every  side 
and  shut  us  out  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  soon  cast  a  magic 
spell  upon  our  spirits,  and  we  began  to  feel  charmed  with  the 
freedom  and  solitude  around  us.  Every  object  was  new  to 
us.  We  felt  as  if  we  were  the  first  discoverers  of  every 
beautiful  flower  and  stately  tree  that  attracted  our  attention, 
and  we  gave  names  to  fantastic  rocks  and  fairy  islesy  and 
raised  imaginary  houses  and  bridges  on  every  picturesque 
spot  which  we  floated  past  during  our  aquatic  excursions.  I 
learned  the  use  of  the  paddle,  and  became  quite  a  proficient 
in  the  gentle  craft. 

It  was  not  long  before  we  received  visits  from  the  Indians, 
a  people  whose  beauty,  talents,  and  good  qualities  have  been 
somewhat  overrated,  and  invested  with  a  poetical  interest 
which  they  scarcely  deserve.  Their  honesty  and  love  of 
truth  are  the  finest  traits  in  characters  otherwise  dark  and  un 
lovely.  But  these  are  two  God-like  attributes,  and  from  them 
spring  all  that  is  generous  and  ennobling  about  them. 

There  never  was  a  people  more  sensible  of  kindness,  or 
more  grateful  for  any  little  act  of  benevolence  exercised  to- 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.      27 

'wards  them.  "VVe  met  them  with  confidence;  our  dealings 
with  them  were  conducted  with  the  strictest  integrity ;  and 
they  became  attached  to  our  persons,  and  in  no  single  in 
stance  ever  destroyed  the  good  opinion  we  entertained  of 
them. 

The  tribes  that  occupy  the  shores  of  all  these  inland  waters, 
back  of  the  great  lakes,  belong  to  the  Chippewa  or  Missasagua 
Indians,  perhaps  the  least  attractive  of  all  these  wild  people, 
both  wTith  regard  to  their  physical  and  mental  endowments. 
The  men  of  this  tribe  are  generally  small  of  stature,  with  very 
coarse  and  repulsive  features.  The  forehead  is  low  and  re 
treating,  the  observing  faculties  large,  the  intellectual  ones 
scarcely  developed ;  the  ears  large,  and  standing  off  from  the 
face ;  the  eyes  looking  towards  the  temples,  keen,  snake-like, 
and  far  apart ;  the  cheek-bones  prominent ;  the  nose  long  and 
flat,  the  nostrils  very  round  ;  the  jaw-bone  projecting,  massy, 
and  brutal ;  the  mouth  expressing  ferocity  and  sullen  deter 
mination  ;  the  teeth  large,  even,  and  dazzilngly  white.  The 
mouth  of  the  female  differs  widely  in  expression  from  that  of 
the  male  ;  the  lips  are  fuller,  the  jaw  less  projecting,  and  the 
smile  is  simple  and  agreeable.  The  women  are  a  merry, 
light-hearted  set,  and  their  constant  laugh  and  incessant  prattle 
form  a  strange  contrast  to  the  iron  taciturnity  of  their  grim 
lords.  ..  /. 

Now  I  am  upon  the  subject,  Twill  recapitulate  a  few  traits 
and  sketches  of  these  people,  as  they  came  under  my  own  im 
mediate  observation. 

A  dry  cedar  swamp,  not  far  from  the  house,  by  the  lake 
shore,  had  been  their  usual  place  of  encampment  for  many 
years.  The  whole  block  of  land  was  almost  entirely  covered 
with  maple-trees,  and  had  originally  been  an  Indian  sugar- 
bush.  Although  the  favourite  spot  had  now  passed  into  the 
hands  of  strangers,  they  still  frequented  the  place,  to  make 


28  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  SUSS. 

canoes  and  baskets,  to  fish  and  shoot,  and  occasionally  to  fol 
low  their  old  occupation,  Scarcely  a  week  passed  away  with 
out  my  being  visited  by  the  dark  strangers  ;  and  as  my  hus 
band  never  allowed  them  to  eat  with  the  servants,  but  brought 
them  to  his  own  table,  they  soon  grew  friendly  and  communi 
cative,  and  would  point  to  every  object  that  attracted  their 
attention,  asking  a  thousand  questions  as  to  its  use,  the  mate 
rial  of  which  it  was  made,  and  if  we  were  inclined  to  exchange 
it  for  their  commodities  ]  With  a  large  map  of  Canada,  they 
were  infinitely  delighted.  In  a  moment  they  recognized  every 
bay  and  headland  in  Ontario,  and  almost  screamed  with  delight 
when,  following  the  course  of  the  Trent  with  their  fingers,  they 
came  to  their  own  lake. 

How  eagerly  each  pointed  out  the  spot  to  his  fellows ; 
how  intently  their  black  heads  were  bent  down,  and  their 
dark  eyes  fixed  upon  the  map !  What  strange,  uncouth  excla 
mations  of  surprise  burst  from  their  lips  as  they  rapidly 
repeated  the  Indian  names  for  every  lake  and  river  on  this 
wonderful  piece  of  paper  ! 

The  old  chief,  Peter  Nogan,  begged  hard  for  the  coveted 
treasure.  He  would  give  "  Canoe,  venison,  duck,  fish,  for  it ; 
and  more,  by  and  by." 

I  felt  sorry  that  I  was  unable  to  gratify  his  wishes ;  but 
the  map  had  cost  upwards  of  six  dollars,  and  was  daily  con 
sulted  by  my  husband,  in  reference  to  the  names  and  situa 
tions  of  localities  in  the  neighbourhood. 

I  had  in  my  possession  a  curious  Japanese  sword,  which 
had  been  given  to  me  by  an  uncle  of  Tom  Wilson's — a  strange 
gift  to  a  young  lady ;  but  it  was  on  account  of  its  curiosity, 
and  had  no  reference  to  my  warlike  propensities.  This  sword 
was  broad,  and  three-sided  in  the  blade,  and  in  shape  resem 
bled  a  moving  snake.  The  hilt  was  formed  of  a  hideous 
carved  image  of  one  of  their  war-gods ;  and  a  more  villainous- 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.      29 

looking  wretch  was  never  conceived  by  the  most  distorted 
imagination.  He  was  represented  in  a  sitting  attitude,  the 
eagle's  claws,  that  formed  his  hands,  resting  upon  his  knees  ; 
his  legs  terminated  in  lion's  paws  ;  and  his  face  was  a  strange 
compound  of  beast  and  bird — the  upper  part  of  his  person 
being  covered  with  feathers,  the  lower  with  long,  shaggy  hair. 
The  case  of  this  awful  weapon  was  made  of  wood,  and,  in 
spite  of  its  serpentine  form,  fitted  it  exactly.  No  trace  of  a 
join  could  be  found  in  this  scabbard,  which  was  of  hard  wood, 
and  highly  polished. 

One  of  my  Indian  friends  found  this  sword  lying  upon  the 
book-shelf,  and  he  hurried  to  communicate  the  important  dis 
covery  to  his  companions.  Moodie  was  absent,  and  they 
brought  it  to  me  to  demand  an  explanation  of  the  figure  that 
formed  the  hilt.  I  told  them  that  it  was  a  weapon  that  be 
longed  to  a  very  fierce  people  who  lived  in  the  East,  far  over 
the  Great  Salt  Lake ;  that  they  were  not  Christians,  as  we 
were,  but  said  their  prayers  to  images  made  of  silver,  and 
gold,  and  ivory,  and  wood,  and  that  this  wras  one  of  them ; 
that  before  they  went  into  battle  they  said  their  prayers  to 
that  hideous  thing,  which  they  had  made  with  their  own 
hands.  The  Indians  were  highly  amused  by  this  relation,  and 
passed  the  sword  from  one  to  the  other,  exclaiming,  "  A  god ! 
— Owgh  !— A  god !" 

But,  in  spite  of  these  outward  demonstrations  of  contempt, 
I  was  sorry  to  perceive  that  this  circumstance  gave  the  weapon 
a  great  value  in  their  eyes,  and  they  regarded  it  with  a  sort 
of  mysterious  awe. 

For  several  days  they  continued  to  visit  the  house,  bring 
ing  along  with  them  some  fresh  companion  to  look  at  Mrs. 
Hoodie's  god! — until,  vexed  and  annoyed  by  the  delight  they 
manifested  at  the  sight  of  the  eagle-beaked  monster,  I  refiisod 
to  gratify  their  curiosity,  by  not  producing  him  again. 


SO  EOUGHINQ-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

The  manufacture  of  the  sheath,  which  had  caused  me  much 
perplexity,  was  explained  by  old  Peter  in  a  minute.  "  'Tig 
burnt  out,"  he  said.  "  Instrument  made  like  sword — heat 
red-hot — burnt  through — polished  outside." 

Had  I  demanded  a  whole  fleet  of  canoes  for  my  Japanese 
sword,  I  am  certain  they  would  have  agreed  to  the  bargain. 
The  Indian  possesses  great  taste,  which  is  displayed  in  the 
carving  of  his  paddles,  in  the  shape  of  his  canoes,  in  the  ele 
gance  and  symmetry  of  his  bows,  in  the  cut  of  his  leggings 
and  moccasins,  the  sheath  of  his  hunting-knife,  and  in  all  the 
little  ornaments  in  which  he  delights.  It  is  almost  impossible 
for  a  settler  to  imitate  to  perfection  an  Indian's  cherry-wood 
paddle.  My  husband  made  very  creditable  attempts,  but 
still  there  was  something  wanting — the  elegance  of  the  Indian 
finish  was  not  there.  If  you  show  them  a  good  print,  they 
invariably  point  out  the  most  natural  and  the  best-executed 
figure  in  the  group.  They  are  particularly  delighted  with 
pictures,  examine  them  long  and  carefully,  and  seem  to  feel 
an  artist-like  pleasure  in  observing  the  effect  produced  by 
light  and  shade. 

I  had  been  showing  John  Nogan,  the  eldest  son  of  old  Peter, 
some  beautiful  coloured  engravings  of  celebrated  females ; 
and  to  my  astonishment  he  pounced  upon  the  best,  and 
grunted  out  his  admiration  in  the  most  approved  Indian 
fashion.  After  having  looked  for  a  long  time  at  all  the 
pictures  very  attentively,  he  took  his  dog  Sancho  upon  his 
knee,  and  showed  him  the  pictures,  with  as  much  gravity  as 
if  the  animal  really  could  have  shared  in  his  pleasure.  The 
vanity  of  these  grave  men  is  highly  amusing.  They  seem 
perfectly  unconscious  of  it  themselves ;  and  it  is  exhibited  in 
the  most  childlike  manner. 

Peter  and  his  son  John  were  taking  tea  with  us,  when  we 
were  joined  by  my  brother,  Mr.  S— = — .  The  latter  was 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND   OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.        31 

giving  us  an  account  of  the  marriage  of  Peter  Jones,  the  cele 
brated  Indian  preacher. 

"  I  cannot  think,"  he  said,  "  how  any  lady  of  property  and 
education  could  marry  such  a  man  as  Jones.  Why,  he's  as 
ugly  as  Peter  here." 

This  was  said,  not  with  any  idea  of  insulting  the  red-skin  on 
the  score  of  his  beauty,  of  which  he  possessed  not  the  smallest 
particle,  but  in  total  forgetfulness  that  our  guest  understood 
English.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  red  flash  of  that  fierce,  dark 
eye  as  it  glared  upon  my  unconscious  brother.  I  would  not 
have  received  such  a  fiery  glance  for  all  the  wealth  that  Peter 
Jones  obtained  with  his  Saxon  bride.  John  Nogan  was  highly 
amused  by  his  father's  indignation.  He  hid  his  face  behind 
the  chief;  and  though  he  kept  perfectly  still,  his  whole  frame 
was  convulsed  with  suppressed  laughter. 

A  plainer  human  being  than  poor  Peter  could  scarcely  be 
imagined ;  yet  he  certainly  deemed  himself  handsome.  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  their  ideas  of  personal  beauty  differ  very 
widely  from  ours.  Tom  Nogan,  the  chief's  brother,  had  a 
very  large,  fat,  ugly  squaw  for  his  wife.  She  was  a  mountain 
of  tawny  flesh ;  and,  but  for  the  innocent,  good-natured  expres 
sion  which,  like  a  bright  sunbeam  penetrating  a  swarthy  cloud, 
spread  all  around  a  kindly  glow,  she  might  have  been  termed 
hideous. 

This  woman  they  considered  very  handsome,  calling  her 
"  a  fine  squaw — clever  squaw — a  much  good  woman  ;"  though 
in  what  her  superiority  consisted,  I  never  could  discover,  often 
as  I  visited  the  wigwam.  She  was  very  dirty,  and  appeared 
quite  indifferent  to  the  claims  of  common  decency  (in  the  dis 
posal  of  the  few  filthy  rags  that  covered  her).  She  was,  how 
ever,  very  expert  in  all  Indian  craft.  No  Jew  could  drive  a 
better  bargain  than  Mrs.  Tom  ;  and  her  urchins,  of  whom  she 
was  the  happy  mother  of  five  or  six,  were  as  cunning  and. 


32  .  &ov&mr0  IT  w  THE 

avaricious  as  herself.  One  day  she  visited  me,  bringing  along 
with  her  a  very  pretty  covered  basket  for  sale.  -I  asked  her 
\vhat  she  wanted  for  it,  but  could  obtain  from  her  no  satisfac 
tory  answer.  I  showed  her  a  small  piece  of  silver.  She  shook 
her  head.  I  tempted  her  with  pork  and  flour,  but  she  required 
neither.  I  had  just  given  up  the  idea  of  dealing  with  her,  in 
despair,  when  she  suddenly  seized  upon  me,  and,  lifting  up 
my  gown,  pointed  exultingly  to  my  quilted  petticoat,  clapping 
her  hands,  and  laughing  immoderately. 

Another  time  she  led  me  all  over  the  house,  to  show  me 
what  she  wanted  in  exchange  for  basket.  My  patience  was 
well  nigh  exhausted  in  following  her  from  place  to  place,  in 
her  attempt  to  discover  the  coveted  article,  when,  hanging 
upon  a  peg  in  my  chamber,  she  espied  a  pair  of  trowsers  be 
longing  to  my  husband's  logging-suit.  The  riddle  was  solved. 
With  a  joyful  cry  she  pointed  to  them,  exclaiming  "  Take 
basket. — Give  them  !"  It  was  with  no  small  difficulty  that  I 
rescued  the  indispensables  from  her  grasp. 

From  this  woman  I  learned  a  story  of  Indian  coolness  and 
courage  which  made  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind.  One  of 
their  squaws,  a  near  relation  of  her  own,  had  accompanied 
her  husband  on  a  hunting  expedition  into  the  forest.  He  had 
been  very  successful,  and  having  killed  more  deer  than  they 
could  well  carry  home,  he  went  to  the  house  of  a  white  man 
to  dispose  of  some  of  it,  leaving  the  squaw  to  take  care  of  the 
rest  until  his  return.  She  sat  carelessly  upon  the  log  with  his 
hunting-knife  in  her  hand,  when  she  heard  the  breaking  of 
branches  near  her,  and,  turning  round,  beheld  a  great  bear 
only  a  few  paces  from  her. 

It  was  too  late  to  retreat ;  and  seeing  that  the  animal  was 
very  hungry,  and  determined  to  come  to  close  quarters,  she 
rose,  and  placed  her  back  against  a  small  tree,  holding  her 
knife  close  to  her  breast,  and  in  a  straight  line  with  the  bear. 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       33 

The  shaggy  monster  came  on.  She  remained  motionless,  her 
eyes  steadily  fixed  upon  her  enemy,  and  as  his  huge  arms 
dosed  around  her,  she  slowly  drove  the  knife  into  his  heart. 
The  bear  uttered  a  hideous  cry,  and  sank  dead  at  her  feet. 
When  the  Indian  returned,  he  found  the  courageous  woman, 
taking  the  skin  from  the  carcass  of  the  formidable  brute. 

The  wolf  they  hold  in  great  contempt,  and  scarcely  deign 
to  consider  him  as  an  enemy.  Peter  Nogan  assured  me  that 
he  never  was  near  enough  to  one  in  his  life  to  shoot  it ;  that, 
except  in  large  companies,  and  when  greatly  pressed  by  hun 
ger,  they  rarely  attack  men.  They  hold  the  lynx,  or  wolver 
ine,  in  much  dread,  as  they  often  spring  from  trees  upon  their 
prey,  fastening  upon  the  throat  with  their  sharp  teeth  and 
claws,  from  which  a  person  in  the  dark  could  scarcely  free 
himself  without  first  receiving  a  dangerous  wound.  The  cry 
of  this  animal  is  very  terrifying,  resembling  the  shrieks  of  a 
human  creature  in  mortal  agony. 

My  husband  was  anxious  to  collect  some  of  the  native 
Indian  airs,  as  they  all  sing  well,  and  have  a  fine  ear  for  mu 
sic,  but  all  his  efforts  proved  abortive.  "John,"  he  said  to 
young  Nogan  (who  played  very  creditably  on  the  flute,  and 
had  just  concluded  the  popular  air  of  "  Sweet  Home"),  "  can 
not  you  play  me  one  of  your  own  songs  V 

"  Yes,— but  no  good." 

"  Leave  me  to  be  the  judge  of  that.  Cannot  you  give  me 
a  war-song  ?" 

"  Yes, — but  no  good,"  with  an  ominous  shake  of  the  head. 

"  A  hunting-song  ?" 

"  No  fit  for  white  man," — with  an  air  of  contempt. — "  No 
good,  no  good !" 

"  Do,  John,  sing  us  a  love-song,"  said  I,  laughing,  "  if  you 
have  such  a  thing  in  your  language." 

"  Oh  !  much  love-song — very  much — bad — bad — no  good 

VOL.  II.  2* 


34  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

for  Christian  man.  Indian  song  no  good  for  white  ears."  This 
was  very  tantalizing,  as  their  songs  sounded  very  sweetly  from 
the  lips  of  their  squaws,  and  I  had  a  great  desire  and  curiosity 
to  get  some  of  them  rendered  into  English. 

To  my  husband  they  gave  the  name  of  "  the  musician," 
but  I  have  forgotten  the  Indian  word.  It  signified  the  maker 
of  sweet  sounds.  They  listened  writh  intense  delight  to  the 
notes  of  his  flute,  maintained  a  breathless  silence  during  the 
performance  ;  their  dark  eyes  flashing  in  fierce  light  at  a  mar 
tial  strain,  or  softening  with  the  plaintive  and  tender. 

The  affection  of  Indian  parents  to  their  children,  and  the  def 
erence  which  they  pay  to  the  aged,  is  a  beautiful  and  touching 
trait  in  their  character. 

One  extremely  cold,  wintry  day,  as  I  was  huddled  with  my 
little  ones  over  the  stove,  the  door  softly  unclosed,  and  the 
moccasined  foot  of  an  Indian  crossed  the  floor.  I  raised  my 
head,  for  I  was  too  much  accustomed  to  their  sudden  appear 
ance  at  any  hour  to  feel  alarmed,  and  perceived  a  tall  woman 
standing  silently  and  respectfully  before  me,  wrapped  in  a 
large  blanket.  The  moment  she  caught  my  eye  she  dropped 
the  folds  of  her  covering  from  around  her,  and  laid  at  my  feet 
the  attenuated  figure  of  a  boy,  about  twelve  years  of  age,  who 
was  in  the  last  stage  of  consumption. 

"  Papouse  die,"  she  said,  mournfiilly,  clasping  her  hands 
against  her  breast,  and  looking  down  upon  the  suffering  lad 
with  the  most  heartfelt  expression  of  maternal  love,  while 
large  tears  trickled  down  her  dark  face.  "Hoodie's  squaw 
save  papouse — poor  Indian  woman  much  glad." 

Her  child  was  beyond  all  human  aid.  I  looked  anxiously 
upon  him,  and  knew,  by  the  pinched-up  features  and  purple 
hue  of  his  wasted  cheek,  that  he  had  not  many  hours  to 
live.  I  could  only  answer  with  tears  her  agonizing  appeal 
to  my  skill. 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       35 

•  "  Try  and  save  him !  All  die  but  him."  (She  held  up 
five  of  her  fingers.)  "  Brought  him  all  the  way  from  Mutta 
Lake*  upon  my  back,  for  white  squaw  to  cure." 

"  I  cannot  cure  him,  my  poor  friend.  He  is  in  God's 
care ;  in  a  few  hours  he  will  be  with  Him." 

The  child  was  seized  with  a  dreadful  fit  of  coughing,  which  I 
expected  every  moment  would  terminate  his  frail  existence. 
I  gave  him  a  tea-spoonful  of  currant-jelly,  which  he  took  with 
avidity,  but  could  not  retain  a  moment  on  his  stomach. 

"  Papouse  die,"  murmured  the  poor  woman  ;  "  alone — 
alone !  No  papouse ;  the  mother  all  alone." 

She  began  re-adjusting  the  poor  sufferer  in  her  blanket.  I 
got  her  some  food,  and  begged  her  to  stay  and  rest  herself; 
but  she  was  too  much  distressed  to  eat,  and  too  restless  to  re 
main.  She  said  little,  but  her  face  expressed  the  keenest 
anguish ;  she  took  up  her  mournful  load,  pressed  for  a  moment 
his  wasted,  burning  hand  in  hers,  and  left  the  room. 

My  heart  followed  her  a  long  way  on  her  melancholy 
journey.  Think  what  this  woman's  love  must  have  been  for 
that  dying  son,  when  she  had  carried  a  lad  of  his  age  six  miles, 
through  the  deep  snow,  upon  her  back,  on  such  a  day,  in  the 
hope  of  my  being  able  to  do  him  some  good.  Poor  heart 
broken  mother !  I  learned  from  Joe  Muskrat's  squaw  some 
days  after  that  the  boy  died  a  few  minutes  after  Elizabeth 
Iron,  his  mother,  got  home. 

,  They  never  forget  any  little  act  of  kindness.  One  cold 
night,  late  in  the  fall,  my  hospitality  was  demanded  by  six 
squaws,  and  puzzled  I  was  how  to  accommodate  them  all.  I 
at  last  determined  to  give  them  the  use  of  the  parlour  floor 
during  the  night.  Among  these  women  there  was  one  very  old, 
whose  hair  was  as  white  as  snow.  She  was  the  only  gray- 

*  Mud  Lake,  or  Lake  Shfmong^  in  Indian* 


36  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

haired  Indian  I  ever  saw,  and  on  that  account  I  regarded  her 
with  peculiar  interest.  I  knew  that  she  was  the  wife  of  a 
chief,  by  the  scarlet  embroidered  leggings,  which  only  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  chiefs  are  allowed  to  wear.  The  old 
squaw  had  a  very  pleasing  countenance,  but  I  tried  in  vain  to 
draw  her  into  conversation.  She  evidently  did  not  understand 
me  ;  and  the  Muskrat  squaw,  and  Betty  Cow,  were  laughing  at 
my  attempts  to  draw  her  out.  I  administered  supper  to  them 
with  my  own  hands,  and  after  I  had  satisfied  their  wants, 
(which  is  no  very  easy  task,  for  they  have  great  appetites,)  I 
told  our  servant  to  bring  in  several  spare  mattresses  and 
blankets  for  their  use.  "  Now  mind,  Jenny,  and  give  the  old 
squaw  the  best  bed,"  I  said ;  "  the  others  are  young  and  can 
put  up  with  a  little  inconvenience." 

The  old  Indian  glanced  at  me  with  her  keen,  bright  eye ; 
but  I  had  no  idea  that  she  comprehended  what  I  said.  Some 
weeks  after  this,  as  I  was  sweeping  over  my  parlour  floor,  a 
slight  tap  drew  me  to  the  door.  On  opening  it  I  perceived 
the  old  squaw,  who  immediately  slipped  into  my  hand  a  set 
of  beautifully-embroidered  bark  trays,  fitting  one  within  the 
other,  and  exhibiting  the  very  best  sample  of  the  porcupine- 
quill  work.  While  I  stood  wondering  what  this  might  mean, 
the  good  old  creature  fell  upon  my  neck,  and  kissing  me,  ex 
claimed,  "  You  remember  old  squaw — make  her  comfortable ! 
Old  squaw  no  forget  you.  Keep  them  for  her  sake,"  and  be 
fore  I  could  detain  her  she  ran  down  the  hill  with  a  swiftness 
which  seemed  to  bid  defiance  to  years.  I  never  saw  this  in 
teresting  Indian  again,  and  I  concluded  that  she  died  during 
the  winter,  for  she  must  have  been  of  a  great  age. 

A  friend  was  staying  with  us,  who  wished  much  to  obtain 
a  likeness  of  Old  Peter.  I  promised  to  try  and  make  a 
sketch  of  the  old  man  the  next  time  he  paid  us  a  visit.  That 
very  afternoon  he  brought  us  some  ducks  in  exchange  for 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       37 

pork,  and  Moodie  asked  him  to  stay  and  take  a  glass  of  whis 
key  with  him  and  his  friend  Mr.  K .  The  old  man  had 

arrayed  himself  in  a  new  blanket-coat,  bound  with  red,  and 
the  seams  all  decorated  with  the  same  gay  material.  His 
leggings  and  moccasins  were  new,  and  elaborately  fringed; 
and,  to  cap  the  climax  of  the  whole,  he  had  a  blue  cloth  coni 
cal  cap  upon  his  head,  ornamented  with  a  deer's  tail  dyed 
blue,  and  several  cock's  feathers.  He  was  evidently  very 
much  taken  up  with  the  magnificence  of  his  own  appearance, 
for  he  often  glanced  at  himself  in  a  small  shaving-glass  that 
hung  opposite,  with  a  look  of  grave  satisfaction.  Sitting 
apart  that  I  might  not  attract  his  observation,  I  got  a  tolera 
bly  faithful  likeness  of  the  old  man,  which,  after  slightly  col 
ouring,  to  show  more  plainly  his  Indian  finery,  I  quietly 

handed  over  to  Mr.  K .  Sly  as  I  thought  myself,  my 

occupation  and  the  object  of  it  had  not  escaped  the  keen  eye 

of  the  old  man.  He  rose,  came  behind  Mr.  K 's  chair, 

and  regarded  the  picture  with  a  most  affectionate  eye.  I  was 
afraid  that  he  would  be  angry  at  the  liberty  I  had  taken.  No 
such  thing !  He  wras  as  pleased  as  Punch. 

"  That  Peter  1"  he  grunted.  "  Give  me — put  up  in  wig 
wam — make  dog  too  !  Owgh  !  owgh  !"  and  he  rubbed  his 

hands  together,  and  chuckled  with  delight.  Mr.  K had 

some  difficulty  in  coaxing  the  picture  from  the  old  chief;  so 
pleased  was  he  with  this  rude  representation  of  himself.  He 
pointed  to  every  particular  article  of  his  dress,  and  dwelt 
with  peculiar  glee  on  the  cap  and  blue  deer's  tail. 

A  few  days  after  this,  I  was  painting  a  beautiful  little 
snow-bird,  that  our  man  had  shot  out  of  a  large  flock  that 
alighted  near  the  door.  I  was  so  intent  upon  my  task,  to 
which  I  was  putting  the  finishing  strokes,  that  I  did  not  ob 
serve  the  stealthy  entrance  (for  they  all  walk  like  cats)  of  a 
stern-looking  red  man,  till  a  slender,  dark  hand  was  extended 


38  EOUGIIING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

over  my  paper  to  grasp  the  dead  bird  from  which  I  was  copy- 
ing,  and  which  as  rapidly  transferred  it  to  the  side  of  the 
painted  one,  accompanying  the  act  with  the  deep  guttural 
note  of  approbation,  the  unmusical,  savage  "  Owgh." 

My  guest  then  seated  himself  with  the  utmost  gravity  in  a 
rocking-chair,  directly  fronting  me,  and  made  the  modest  de 
mand  that  I  should  paint  a  likeness  of  him,  after  the  following 
quaint  fashion : 

"  Moodie's  squaw  know  much — make  Peter  Nogan  toder 
day  on  papare — make  Jacob  to-day — Jacob  young — great 
hunter — give  much  duck — venison — to  squaw." 

Although  I  felt  rather  afraid  of  my  fierce-looking  visitor,  I 
could  scarcely  keep  my  gravity ;  there  was  such  an  air  of 
pompous  self-approbation  about  the  Indian,  such  a  sublime 
look  of  conceit  in  his  grave  vanity. 

"  Moodie's  squaw  cannot  do  every  thing ;  she  cannot  paint 
young  men,"  said  I,  rising,  and  putting  away  my  drawing 
materials,  upon  which  he  kept  his  eye  intently  fixed,  with  a 
hungry,  avaricious  expression.  I  thought  it  best  to  place  the 
coveted  objects  beyond  his  reach.  After  sitting  for  some 
time,  and  watching  all  my  movements,  he  withdrew,  with  a 
sullen,  disappointed  air.  This  man  was  handsome,  but  his  ex 
pression  was  vile.  Though  he  often  came  to  the  house,  I 
never  could  reconcile  myself  to  his  countenance. 

Late  one  very  dark,  stormy  night,  three  Indians  begged  to 
be  allowed  to  sleep  by  the  kitchen  stove.  The  maid  was 
frightened  out  of  her  wits  at  the  sight  of  these  strangers,  who 
were  Mohawks  from  the  Indian  woods  upon  the  Bay  of 
Quinte,  and  they  brought  along  with  them  a  horse  and  cutter. 
The  night  was  so  stormy,  that,  after  consulting  our  man — 
Jacob  Faithful,  as  we  usually  called  him — I  consented  to 
grant  their  petition,  although  they  were  quite  strangers,  and 
taller  and  fiercer-looking  than  our  friends  the  Missasaguas. 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.        39 

I  was  putting  my  children  to  bed,  when  the  girl  came 
rushing  in,  out  of  breath.  "  The  Lord  preserve  us,  madam, 
if  one  of  these  wild  men  has  not  pulled  off  his  trowsers,  and 
is  a-sitting  mending  them  behind  the  stove !  and  what  shall  I 
do?" 

«  Do  1 — why,  stay  with  me,  and  leave  the  poor  fellow  to 
finish  his  work." 

The  simple  girl  had  never  once  thought  of  this  plan  of 
pacifying  her  outraged  sense  of  propriety. 

Their  sense  of  hearing  is  so  acute  that  they  can  distinguish 
sounds  at  an  incredible  distance,  which  cannot  be  detected  by 
a  European  at  all.  I  myself  witnessed  a  singular  exemplifi 
cation  of  this  fact.  It  was  mid-winter;  the  Indians  had 
pitched  their  tent,  or  wigwam,  as  usual,  in  our  swamp.  All 
the  males  were  absent  on  a  hunting  expedition  up  the  coun 
try,  and  had  left  two  women  behind  to  take  care  of  the  camp 
and  its  contents,  Mrs.  Tom  Nogan  and  her  children,  and  Su 
san  Moore,  a  young  girl  of  fifteen,  and  the  only  truly  beauti 
ful  squaw  I  ever  saw.  There  was  something  interesting  about 
this  girl's  history,  as  well  as  her  appearance.  Her  father  had 
been  drowned  during  a  sudden  hurricane,  which  swamped  his 
canoe  on  Stony  Lake ;  and  the  mother,  who  witnessed  the 
accident  from  the  shore,  and  was  near  her  confinement  with 
this  child,  boldly  swam  out  to  his  assistance.  She  reached  the 
spot  where  he  sank,  and  even  succeeded  in  recovering  the 
body  ;  but  it  was  too  late  ;  the  man  was  dead. 

The  soul  of  an  Indian  that  has  been  drowned  is  reckoned 
accursed,  and  he  is  never  permitted  to  join  his  tribe  on  the 
happy  hunting-grounds,  but  his  spirit  haunts  the  lake  or  river 
in  which  he  lost  his  life.  His  body  is  buried  on  some  lonely 
island,  which  the  Indians  never  pass  without  leaving  a  small 
portion  of  food,  tobacco,  or  ammunition,  to  supply  his  wants  ; 
but  he  is  never  interred  with  the  rest  of  his  people.  His  chil- 


40  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  J3USIT. 

dren  are  considered  unlucky,  and  few  willingly  unite  them 
selves  to  the  females  of  the  family,  lest  a  portion  of  the  father's 
curse  should  be  visited  on  them. 

The  orphan  Indian  girl  generally  kept  aloof  from  the  rest, 
and  seemed  so  lonely  and  companionless,  that  she  soon 
attracted  my  attention  and  sympathy,  and  a  hearty  feeling 
of  good-will  sprang  up  between  us.  Her  features  were  small 
and  regular,  her  face  oval,  and  her  large,  dark,  loving  eyes 
were  full  of  tenderness  and  sensibility,  but  as  bright  and  shy 
as  those  of  the  deer.  A  rich  vermilion  glow  burnt  upon  her 
olive  cheek  and  lips,  and  set  off  the  dazzling  whiteness  of  her 
even  and  pearly  teeth.  She  was  small  of  stature,  with  deli 
cate  little  hands  and  feet,  and  her  figure  was  elastic  and  grace 
ful.  She  was  a  beautiful  child  of  nature,  and  her  Indian  name 
signified  "  the  voice  of  angry  waters."  Poor  girl,  she  had 
been  a  child  of  grief  and  tears  from  her  birth  !  Her  mother 
was  a  Mohawk,  from  whom  she,  in  all  probability,  derived 
her  superior  personal  attractions ;  for  they  are  very  far 
before  the  Missasaguas  in  this  respect. 

.     My  friend  and  neighbour,  Emilia  S ,  the  wife  of  a  naval 

officer,  who  lived  about  a  mile  distant  from  me,  through  the 
bush,  had  come  to  spend  the  day  with  me  ;  and  hearing  that 
the  Indians  were  in  the  swamp,  and  the  men  away,  we  deter 
mined  to  take  a  few  trifles  to  the  camp,  in  the  way  of  presents, 
and  spend  an  hour  in  chatting  with  the  squaws. 

What  a  beautiful  moonlight  night  it  was,  as  light  as  day ! 
— the  great  forest  sleeping  tranquilly  beneath  the  cloudless 
heavens — not  a  sound  to  disturb  the  deep  repose  of  nature  but 
the  whispering  of  the  breeze,  which,  during  the  most  profound 
calm,  creeps  through  the  lofty  pine  tops.  We  bounded  down 
the  steep  bank  to  the  lake  shore.  Life  is  a  blessing,  a  precious 
boon  indeed,  in  such  an  hour,  and  we  felt  happy  in  the  mere 
consciousness  of  existence — the  glorious  privilege  of  pouring 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.        41 

out  the  silent  adoration  of  the  heart  to  the  Great  Father  in 
his  universal  temple. 

On  entering  the  wigwam,  which  stood  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  clearing,  in  the  middle  of  a  thick  group  of  cedars,  we 
found  Mrs.  Tom  alone  with  her  elvish  children,  seated  before 
the  great  fire  that  burned  in  the  centre  of  the  camp ;  she  was 
busy  boiling  some  bark  in  an  iron  spider.  The  little  boys,  in 
red  flannel  shirts,  which  were  their  only  covering,  were  tor 
menting  a  puppy,  which  seemed  to  take  their  pinching  and 
pommelling  in  good  part,  for  it  neither  attempted  to  bark  nor 
to  bite,  but  like  the  eels  in  the  story,  submitted  to  the  inflic 
tion  because  it  was  used  to  it.  Mrs.  Tom  greeted  us  with  a 
grin  of  pleasure,  and  motioned  us  to  sit  down  upon  a  buffalo 
skin,  which,  with  a  courtesy  so  natural  to  the  Indians,  she  had 
placed  near  her  for  our  accommodation. 

"  You  are  all  alone,"  said  I,  glancing  round  the  camp. 

"  Ye'es ;  Indian  away  hunting — Upper  Lakes.  Come  home 
with  much  deer." 

"  And  Susan,  where  is  she  ?" 

"  By  and  by,"  (meaning  that  she  was  coming).  "  Gone  to 
fetch  water — ice  thick — chop  with  axe — take  long  time." 

As  she  ceased  speaking,  the  old  blanket  that  formed  the 
door  of  the  tent  was  withdrawn,  and  the  girl,  bearing  two 
pails  of  water,  stood  in  the  open  space,  in  the  white  moon 
light.  The  glow  of  the  fire  streamed  upon  her  dark,  floating 
locks,  danced  in  the  black,  glistening  eye,  and  gave  a  deeper 
blush  to  the  olive  cheek !  She  would  have  made  a  beautiful 
picture ;  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  would  have  rejoiced  in  such  a 
model — so  simply  graceful  and  unaffected,  the  very  beau  ideal 
of  savage  life  and  unadorned  nature.  A  smile  of  recognition 
passed  between  us.  She  put  down  her  burden  beside  Mrs. 
Tom,  and  noiselessly  glided  to  her  seat. 

We  had  scarcely  exchanged  a  few  words  with  our  favour- 


42  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

ite,  when  the  old  squaw,  placing  her  hand  against  her  ear,  ex 
claimed,  "  Whist !  whist !" 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Emilia  and  I,  starting  to  our  feet. 
"  Is  there  any  danger  f ' 

"  A  deer — a  deer — in  bush !"  whispered  the  squaw,  seizing 
a  rifle  that  stood  in  a  corner.  "  I  hear  sticks  crack — a  great 
way  off.  Stay  here !" 

A  great  way  off  the  animal  must  have  been,  for  though 
Emilia  and  I  listened  at  the  open  door,  an  advantage  which 
the  squaw  did  not  enjoy,  we  could  not  hear  the  least  sound : 
all  seemed  still  as  death.  The  squaw  whistled  to  an  old 
hound,  and  went  out. 

"  Did  you  hear  any  thing,  Susan  ?" 

She  smiled,  and  nodded. 

"  Listen ;  the  dog  has  found  the  track." 

The  next  moment  the  discharge  of  a  rifle,  and  the  deep 
baying  of  the  d.og,  woke  up  the  sleeping  echoes  of  the  woods ; 
and  the  girl  started  off  to  help  the  old  squaw  to  bring  in  the 
game  that  she  had  shot. 

The  Indians  are  great  imitators,  and  possess  a  nice  tact  in 
adopting  the  customs  and  manners  of  those  with  whom  they 
associate.  An  Indian  is  Nature's  gentleman — never  familiar, 
coarse,  or  vulgar.  If  he  take  a  meal  with  you,  he  waits  to 
see  how  you  make  use  of  the  implements  on  the  table,  and 
the  manner  in  which  you  eat,  which  he  imitates  with  a  grave 
decorum,  as  if  he  had  been  accustomed  to  the  same  usages 
from  childhood.  He  never  attempts  to  help  himself,  or  de 
mand  more  food,  but  waits  patiently  until  you  perceive  what 
he  requires.  I  was  perfectly  astonished  at  this  innate  polite 
ness,  for  it  seems  natural  to  all  the  Indians  with  whom  I  have 
had  any  dealings. 

There  was  one  old  Indian,  who  belonged  to  a  distant  set 
tlement,  and  only  visited  our  lakes  occasionally  on  hunting 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND   OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS,        43 

parties.  He  was  a  strange,  eccentric,  merry  old  fellow,  with 
a  skin  like  red  mahogany,  and  a  wiry,  sinewy  frame,  that 
looked  as  if  it  could  bid  defiance  to  every  change  of  tempera 
ture.  Old  Snow-storm,  for  such  was  his  significant  name,  was 
rather  too  fond  of  the  whiskey-bottle,  and  when  he  had  taken 
a  drop  too  much,  he  became  an  unmanageable  wild  beast. 
He  had  a  great  fancy  for  my  husband,  and  never  visited  the 
other  Indians  without  extending  the  same  favour  to  us.  Once 
upon  a  time,  he  broke  the  nipple  of  his  gun ;  and  Moodie  re 
paired  the  injury  for  him  by  fixing  a  new  one  in  its  place, 
which  little  kindness  quite  won  the  heart  of  the  old  man,  and 
he  never  came  to  see  us  without  bringing  an  offering  of  fish, 
ducks,  partridges,  or  venison,  to  show  his  gratitude. 

One  warm  September  day,  he  made  his  appearance  bare 
headed,  as  usual,  and  carrying  in  his  hand  a  great  checked 
bundle. 

"  Fond  of  grapes  ?"  said  he,  putting  the  said  bundle  into 
my  hands.  "  Fine  grapes — brought  them  from  island,  for  my 
friend's  squaw  and  papouses." 

Glad  of  the  donation,  which  I  considered  quite  a  prize,  I 
hastened  into  the  kitchen  to  untie  the  grapes  and  put  them 
into  a  dish.  But  imagine  my  disappointment,  when  I  found 
them  wrapped  up  in  a  soiled  shirt,  only  recently  taken  from 
the  back  of  the  owner.  I  called  Moodie,  and  begged  him  to 
retuni  Snow-storm  his  garment,  and  to  thank  him  for  the 
grapes. 

The  mischievous  creature  was  highly  diverted  with  the 
circumstance,  and  laughed  immoderately. 

"  Snow-storm,"  said  he,  "  Mrs.  Moodie  and  the  children 
are  obliged  to  you  for  your  kindness  in  bringing  them  the 
grapes  ;  but  how  came  you  to  tie  them  up  in  a  dirty  shirt  ?" 

"  Dirty !"  cried  the  old  man,  astonished  that  we  should 
object  to  the  fruit  on  that  score.  ."  It  ought  to  be  clean  j  it. 


44  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

has  been  washed  often  enough.  Owgh !  You  see,  Moodie," 
he  continued,  "  I  have  no  hat — never  wear  hat — want  no  shade 
to  my  eyes — love  the  sun — see  all  around  me — up  and  down 
— much  better  widout  hat.  Could  not  put  grapes  in  hat — 
blanket-coat  too  large,  crush  fruit,  juice  run  out.  I  had  noting 
but  my  shirt,  so  I  takes  off  shirt,  and  brings  grape  safe  over 
the  water  on  my  back.  Papouse  no  care  for  dirty  shirt ; 
their  lee-tel  bellies  have  no  eyes" 

In  spite  of  this  eloquent  harangue,  I  could  not  bring  my 
self  to  use  the  grapes,  ripe  and  tempting  as  they  looked,  or 
give  them  to  the  children.  Mr.  W and  his  wife  happen 
ing  to  step  in  at  that  moment,  fell  into  such  an  ecstacy  at  the 
sight  of  the  grapes,  that,  as  they  were  perfectly  unacquainted 
with  the  circumstance  of  the  shirt,  I  very  generously  gratified 
their  wishes  by  presenting  them  with  the  contents  of  the  large 
dish ;  and  they  never  ate  a  bit  less  sweet  for  the  novel  mode 
in  which  they  were  conveyed  to  me ! 

The  Indians,  under  their  quiet  exterior,  possess  a  deal  of 
humour.  They  have  significant  names  for  every  thing,  and  a 
nickname  for  every  one,  and  some  of  the  latter  are  laughably 
appropriate.  A  fat,  pompous,  ostentatious  settler  in  our 
neighbourhood  they  called  Muckakee,  "the  bull-frog."  An 
other,  rather  a  fine  young  man,  but  with  a  very  red  face, 
they  named  Segoskee,  "  the  rising  sun."  Mr.  Wood,  who  had 
a  farm  above  ours,  was  a  remarkably  slender  young  man, 
and  to  him  they  gave  the  appellation  of  Metiz,  "  thin  stick." 
A  woman,  that  occasionally  worked  for  me,  had  a  disagree 
able  squint ;  she  was  known  in  Indian  by  the  name  of  Sachd- 
bo,  "  cross-eye."  A  gentleman  with  a  very  large  nose  was 
Choofas,  "  big,  or  ugly  nose."  My  little  Addie,  who  was  a 
fair,  lovely  creature,  they  viewed  with  great  approbation,  and 
called  Anoonk,  "  a  star  ;"  while  the  rosy  Katie  was  Nogesi- 
^  "  the  northern  lights."  As  to  me,  I  was  Wonocosigvi*  a 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       45 

"  humming-bird  ;"  a  ridiculous  name  for  a  tall  woman,  but  it 
had  reference  to  the  delight  I  took  in  painting  birds.  My 
friend,  Emilia,  was  "  blue  cloud ;"  my  little  Donald,  "  frozen 

face ;"  young  C ,  "  the  red-headed  woodpecker,"  from  the 

colour  of  his  hair ;  my  brother,  Chippeiva,  and  "  the  bald- 
headed  eagle."  He  was  an  especial  favourite  among  them. 

The  Indians  are  often  made  a  prey  of  and  cheated  by  the 
unprincipled  settlers,  who  think  it  no  crime  to  overreach  a 
red  skin.  One  anecdote  will  fully  illustrate  this  fact.  A 
young  squaw,  who  was  near  becoming  a  mother,  stopped  at 
a  Smith-town  settler's  house  to  rest  herself.  The  woman  of 
the  house,  who  was  Irish,  was  peeling  for  dinner  some 
large  white  turnips,  which  her  husband  had  grown  in  their 
garden.  The  Indian  had  never  seen  a  turnip  before,  and  the 
appearance  of  the  firm,  white,  juicy  root  gave  her  such  a  keen 
craving  to  taste  it  that  she  very  earnestly  begged  for  a  small 
piece  to  eat.  She  had  purchased  at  Peterborough  a  large 
stone-china  bowl,  of  a  very  handsome  pattern,  (or,  perhaps, 
got  it  at  the  store  in  exchange  for  a  basket,}  the  worth  of 
which  might  be  half-a-dollar.  If  the  poor  squaw  longed  for 
the  turnip,  the  value  of  which  could  scarcely  reach  a  copper, 
the  covetous  European  had  fixed  as  longing  a  glance  upon  the 
china  bowl,  and  she  was  determined  to  gratify  her  avaricious 
desire  and  obtain  it  on  the  most  easy  terms.  She  told  the 
squaw,  with  some  disdain,  that  her  man  did  not  grow  turnips 
to  give  away  to  "  Injuns,"  but  she  would  sell  her  one.  The 
squaw  offered  her  four  coppers,  all  the  change  she  had  about 
her.  This  the  woman  refused  with  contempt.  She  then 
proffered  a  basket ;  but  that  was  not  sufficient ;  nothing  would 
satisfy  her  but  the  bowl.  The  Indian  demurred  ;  but  oppo 
sition  had  only  increased  her  craving  for  the  turnip  in  a  ten 
fold  degree  ;  and,  after  a  short  mental  struggle,  in  which  the 
animal  propensity  overcame  the  warnings  of  prudence,  the 


46  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSK 

squaw  gave  up  the  bowl,  and  received  in  return  one  turnip  ! 
The  daughter  of  this  woman  told  me  this  anecdote  of  her 
mother  as  a  very  clever  thing.  What  ideas  some  people 
have  of  moral  justice  ! 

I  have  said  before  that  the  Indian  never  forgets  a  kindness. 
We  had  a  thousand  proofs  of  this,  when,  overtaken  by  misfor 
tune,  and  \vithering  beneath  the  iron  grasp  of  poverty,  we 
could  scarcely  obtain  bread  for  ourselves  and  our  little  ones ; 
then  it  was  that  the  truth  of  the  Eastern  proverb  was  brought 
home  to  our  hearts,  and  the  goodness  of  God  fully  manifested 
towards  us,  "  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters,  and  thou  shalt 
find  it  after  many  $ays."  During  better  times  we  had  treated 
these  poor  savages  with  kindness  and  liberality,  and  when 
dearer  friends  looked  coldly  upon  us  they  never  forsook  us. 
For  many  a  good  meal  I  have  been  indebted  to  them,  when  I 
had  nothing  to  give  in  return,  when  the  pantry  was  empty, 
and  "  the  hearth-stone  growing  cold,"  as  they  term  the  want 
of  provisions  to  cook  at  it.  And  their  delicacy  in  conferring 
these  favours  was  not  the  least  admirable  part  of  their  con 
duct.  John  Nogan,  who  was  much  attached  to  us,  would 
bring  a  fine  bunch  of  ducks,  and  drop  them  at  my  feet  "  for 
the  papouse,"  or  leave  a  large  muskinonge  on  the  sill  of  the 
door,  or  place  a  quarter  of  venison  just  within  it,  and  slip 
away  without  saying  a  word,  thinking  that  receiving  a  present 
from  a  poor  Indian  might  hurt  our  feelings,  and  he  would 
spare  us  the  mortification  of  returning  thanks. 

When  an  Indian  loses  one  of  his  children,  he  must  keep  a 
strict  fast  for  three  days,  abstaining  from  food  of  any  kind. 
A  hunter,  of  the  name  of  Young,  told  me  a  curious  story  of 
their  rigid  observance  of  this  strange  rite. 

"  They  had  a  chief,"  he  said,  "  a  few. years  ago,  whom  they 
called  '  Handsome  Jack' — whether  in  derision,  I  cannot  tell, 
for  he  was  one  of  the  ugliest  Indians  I  ever  saw.  The  scarlet 


TSU  WILDERNESS,  AND  OT7R  INDIAN  FRIENDS.       47 

fever  got  into  the  camp — a  terrible  disease  in  this  country, 
and  doubly  terrible  to  those  poor  creatures  who  don't  know 
how  to  treat  it.  His  eldest  daughter  died.  The  chief  had 
fasted  two  days  when  I  met  h5m  in  the  bush.  I  did  not  know 
what  had  happened,  but  I  opened  my  wallet,  for  I  was  on  a 
hunting  expedition,  and  offered  him  some  bread  and  dried 
Tenison.  He  looked  at  me  reproachfully. 

"  '  Do  white  men  eat  bread  the  first  night  their  papouse  is 
laid  in  the  earth  V 

"  I  then  knew  the  cause  of  his  depression,  and  left  him." 

On  the  night  of  the  second  day  of  his  fast  another  child 
died  of  the  fever.  He  had  now  to  accomplish  three  more 
days  without  tasting  food.  It  wras  too*  much  even  for  an 
Indian.  On  the  evening  of  the  fourth,  he  was  so  pressed  by 
ravenous  hunger,  that  he  stole  into  the  woods,  caught  a  bull 
frog,  and  devoured  it  alive.  He  imagined  himself  alone,  but 
one  of  his  people,  suspecting  his  intention,  had  followed  him, 
unperceived,  to  the  bush.  The  act  he  had  just  committed 
was  a  hideous  crime  in  their  eyes,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
•camp  was  in  an  uproar.  The  chief  fled  for  protection  to 
Young's  house.  When  the  hunter  demanded  the  cause  of  his 
alarm,  he  gave  for  answer,  "  There  are  plenty  of  flies  at  my 
house.  To  avoid  their  stings  I  came  to  you." 

It  required  all  the  -eloquence  of  Mr.  Young,  who  enjoyed 
much  popularity  among  them,  to  reconcile  the  rebellious 
tribe  to  their  chief. 

They  are  very  skilful  in  their  treatment  of  wounds,  and 
many  diseases.  Their  knowledge  of  the  medicinal  qualities 
of  their  plants  and  herbs  is  very  great.  They  make  excellent 
poultices  from  the  bark  of  the  bass  and  the  slippery-elm. 
They  use  several  native  plants  in  their  dyeing  of  baskets  and 
porcupine  quills.  The  inner  bark  of  the  swamp-alder,  simply 
boiled  in  water,  makes  a  beautiful  red.  From  the  root  of  the 


48  KOmniNQ  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

black  briony  they  obtain  a  fine  salve  for  sores,  and  extract  a 
rich  yellow  dye.  The  inner  bark  of  the  root  of  the  sumach, 
roasted,  and  reduced  to  powder,  is  a  good  remedy  for  the 
ague  ;  a  tea-spoonful  given  between  the  hot  and  cold  fit.  They 
scrape  the  fine  white  powder  from  the  large  fungus  that  grows 
upon  the  bark  of  the  pine  into  whiskey,  and  take  it  for  violent 
pains  in  the  stomach.  The  taste  of  this  powder  strongly  re 
minded  me  of  quinine. 

I  have  read  much  of  the  excellence  of  Indian  cookery,  but 
I  never  could  bring  myself  to  taste  any  thing  prepared  in  their 
dirty  wigwams.  I  remember  being  highly  amused  in  watch 
ing  the  preparation  of  a  mess,  which  might  have  been  called 
the  Indian  hotch-potch.  It  consisted  of  a  strange  mixture  of 
fish,  flesh,  and  flowl,  all  boiled  together  in  the  same  vessel. 
Ducks,  partridges,  muskinonge,  venison,  and  muskrats,  formed 
a  part  of  this  delectable  compound.  These  were  literally 
smothered  in  onions,  potatoes,  and  turnips,  which  they  had 
procured  from  me.  They  very  hospitably  offered  me  a  dish 
ful  of  the  odious  mixture,  which  the  odour  of  the  muskrats 
rendered  every  thing  but  savoury ;  but  I  declined,  simply  sta 
ting  that  I  was  not  hungry.  My  little  boy  tasted  it,  but  quickly 
left  the  camp  to  conceal  the  effect  it  produced  upon  him. 

Their  method  of  broiling  fish,  however,  is  excellent.  They 
take  a  fish,  just  fresh  out  of  the  water,  cut  out  the  entrails, 
and,  without  removing  the  scales,  wash  it  clean,  dry  it  in  a 
cloth,  or  in  grease,  and  cover  it  all  over  with  clear  hot  ashes. 
When  the  flesh  will  part  from  the  bone,  they  draw  it  out  of 
the  ashes,  strip  off  the  skin,  and  it  is  fit  for  the  table  of  the 
moat  fastidious  epicure. 

The  deplorable  want  of  chastity  that  exists  among  the 
Indian  women  of  this  tribe  seems  to  have  been  more  the 
result  of  their  intercourse  with  the  settlers  in  the  country 
than  from  any  previous  disposition  to  this  vice.  The  jealousy 


THE  WILDERNESS,  AND  OUR  INDIAN  &RIENDS.       49 

of  their  husbands  has  often  been  exercised  in  a  terrible  man- 
ner  against  the  offending  squaws  $  but  this  has  not  happened 
of  late  years.  The  men  wink  at  these  derelictions  in  their 
wives,  and  share  with  them  the  price  of  their  shame* 

The  mixture  of  European  blood  adds  greatly  to  the  phy 
sical  beauty  of  the  half-race,  but  produces  a  sad  falling  olF 
from  the  original  integrity  of  the  Indian  character.  The  hal£ 
caste  is  generally  a  lying,  vicious  rogue,  possessing  the  worst 
qualities  of  both  parents  in  an  eminent  degree.  We  have 
many  of  these  half-Indians  in  the  penitentiary,  for  crimes  of 
the  blackest  dye. 

The  skill  of  the  Indian  in  procuring  his  game,  either  by 
land  or  water,  has  been  too  well  described  by  better  writers 
than  I  could  ever  hope  to  be,  to  need  any  illustration  from 
rny  pen,  and  I  will  close  this  long  chapter  with  a  droll  anec 
dote  which  is  told  of  a  gentleman  in  this  neighbourhood. 

The  early  loss  of  his  hair  obliged  Mr. to  procure  the 

substitute  of  a  wig.  This  was  such  a  good  imitation  of  na 
ture,  that  none  but  his  intimate  friends  and  neighbours  were 
aware  of  the  fact.  It  happened  that  he  had  had  ^ome  quarrel 
with  an  Indian,  which  had  to  be  settled  in  one  of  the  petty 

courts.  The  case  was  decided  in  favour  of  Mr. ,  which 

so  aggrieved  the  savage,  who  considered  himself  the  injured 
party,  that  he  sprang  upon  him  with  a  furious  yell,  tomahawk 
in  hand,  with  the  intention  of  depriving  him  of  his  scalp.  He 
twisted  his  hand  in  the  locks  which  adorned  the  cranium  of 
his  adversary,  when — horror  of  horrors ! — the  treacherous  wig 
came  off  in  his  hand,  "  Owgh !  owgh !"  exclaimed  the  affrighted 
savage,  flinging  it  from  him,  and  rushing  from  the  court  as  if 
he  had  been  bitten  by  a  rattlesnake.  His  sudden  exit  was 

followed  by  peals  of  laughter  from  the  crowd,  while  Mr. 

coolly  picked  up  his  wig,  and  dryly  remarked  that  it  had 
saved  his  head. 

VOL.  II.  8 


50  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE 


CHAPTEK   III. 

BURNING    THE    FALLOW. 

IT  is  not  my  intention  to  give  a  regular  history  of  our  resi 
dence  in  the  bush,  but  merely  to  present  to  my  readers 
such  events  as  may  serve  to  illustrate  a  life  in  the  woods. 

The  winter  and  spring  of  1834  had  passed  away.  The 
latter  was  uncommonly  cold  and  backward  ;  so  much  so 
that  we  had  a  very  heavy  fall  of  snow  upon  the  14th  and 
15th  of  May,  and  several  gentlemen  drove  down  to  Cobourg 
in  a  sleigh,  the  snow  lying  upon  the  ground  to  the  depth  of 
several  inches. 

A  late,  cold  spring  in  Canada  is  generally  succeeded  by  a 
burning,  hot  summer ;  and  the  summer  of  '34  was  the  hottest 
I  ever  remember.  No  rain  fell  upon  the  earth  for  many 
weeks,  till  nature  drooped  and  withered  beneath  one  bright 
blaze  of  sunlight ;  and  the  ague  and  fever  in  the  woods,  and 
the  cholera  in  the  large  towns  and  cities,  spread  death  and 
sickness  through  the  country. 

Moodie  had  made  during  the  winter  a  large  clearing  of 
twenty  acres  around  the  house.  The  progress  of  the  workmen 
had  been  watched  by  me  with  the  keenest  interest.  Every 
tree  that  reached  the  ground  opened  a  wider  gap  in  the  dark 
wood,  giving  us  a  broader  ray  of  light  and  a  clearer  glimpse 
of  the  blue  sky.  But  when  the  dark  cedar  swamp  fronting 
the  house  fell  beneath  the  strokes  of  the  axe,  and  we  got  a  first 
view  of  the  lake,  my  joy  was  complete  j  a  new  and  beautiful 


BURNING-  THE  FALLOW.  51 

object  was  now  constantly  before  me,  which  gave  me  the 
greatest  pleasure.  By  night  and  day,  in  sunshine  or  in  storm, 
water  is  always  the  most  sublime  feature  in  a  landscape,  and 
no  view  can  be  truly  grand  in  which  it  is  wanting.  From  a 
child,  it  always  had  the  most  powerful  effect  upon  my  mind, 
from  the  great  ocean  rolling  in  majesty,  to  the  tinkling  forest 
rill,  hidden  by  the  flowers  and  rushes  along  its  banks.  Half 
the  solitude  of  my  forest  home  vanished  when  the  lake  un 
veiled  its  bright  face  to  the  blue  heavens,  and  I  saw  sun  and 
moon  and  stars  and  waving  trees  reflected  there.  I  would 
sit  for  hours  at  the  window  as  the  shades  of  evening  deepened 
round  me,  watching  the  massy  foliage  of  the  forests  pictured 
in  the  waters,  till  fancy  transported  me  back  to  England,  and 
the  songs  of  birds  and  the  lowing  of  cattle  were  sounding  in 
my  ears.  It  was  long,  very  long,  before  I  could  discipline  my 
mind  to  learn  and  practise  all  the  menial  employments  which 
are  necessary  in  a  good  settler's  wife. 

The  total  absence  of  trees  about  the  doors  in  all  new  set 
tlements  had  always  puzzled  me,  in  a  country  where  the  in 
tense  heat  of  summer  seems  to  demand  all  the  shade  that 
can  be  procured.  My  husband  had  left  several  beautiful 
rock-elms  (the  most  picturesque  tree  in  the  country)  near  our 
dwelling,  but,  alas !  the  first  high  gale  prostrated  all  my  fine 
trees,  and  left  our  log  cottage  entirely  exposed  to  the  fierce 
rays  of  the  sun.  The  confusion  of  an  uncleared  fallow  spread 
around  us  on  every  side.  Huge  trunks  of  trees  and  piles  of 
brush  gave  a  littered  and  uncomfortable  appearance  to  the 
locality,  and  as  the  weather  had  been  very  dry  for  some 
weeks,  I  heard  my  husband  daily  talking  with  his  choppers  as 
to  the  expediency  of  firing  the  fallow.  They  still  urged  him 
to  wait  a  little  longer,  until  he  could  get  a  good  breeze  to 
carry  the  fire  well  through  the  brush. 

Business  called  him  suddenly  to  Toronto,  but  he  left  a 


52  ROUGHING  IT  Iff  THE  BUSH. 

strict  charge  with  old  Thomas  and  his  sons,  who  were  engaged 
in  the  job,  by  no  means  to  attempt  to  burn  it  off  till  he  re 
turned,  as  he  wished  to  be  upon  the  premises  himself,  in  case 
of  any  danger.  He  had  previously  burnt  all  the  heaps  im 
mediately  about  the  doors.  While  he  was  absent,  old  Thomas 
and  his  second  son  fell  sick  with  the  ague,  and  went  home  to 
their  own  township,  leaving  John,  a  surly,  obstinate  young 
man,  in  charge  of  the  shanty,  where  they  slept,  and  kept  their 
tools  and  provisions.  Monaghan  I  had  sent  to  fetch  up  my 
three  cows,  as  the  children  were  languishing  for  milk,  and 
Mary  and  I  remained  alone  in  the  house  with  the  little  ones. 
The  day  was  sultry,  and  towards  noon  a  strong  wind  sprang 
up  that  roared  in  the  pine  tops  like  the  dashing  of  distant  bil 
lows,  but  without  in  the  least  degree  abating  the  heat.  The 
children  were  lying  listlessly  upon  the  floor  for  coolness,  and 
the  girl  and  I  were  finishing  sun-bonnets,  when  Mary  suddenly 
exclaimed,  "  Bless  us,  mistress,  what  a  smoke !"  I  ran  im 
mediately  to  the  door,  but  was  not  able  to  distinguish  ten  yards 
before  me.  The  swamp  immediately  below  us  was  on  fire, 
and  the  heavy  wind  was  driving  a  dense  black  cloud  of 
smoke  directly  towards  us. 

"  What  can  this  mean  f '  I  cried,  "  Who  can  have  set  fire 
to  the  fallow  1" 

As  I  ceased  speaking,  John  Thomas  stood  pale  and  trem 
bling  before  me.  "  John,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  fire  V 

"  Oh,  ma'am,  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  ;  it  was  I  set  fire 
to  it,  and  I  would  give  all  I  have  in  the  world  if  I  had  not 
done  it." 

"  What  is  the  danger  ?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  terribly  afeard  that  we  shall  all  be  burnt  up," 
said  the  fellow,  beginning  to  whimper. 

"  Why  did  you  run  such  a  risk,  and  your  master  from 
home,  and  no  one  on  the  place  to  render  the  least  assistance  ?" 


BURNING-  THE  FALLOW.  53 

"I  did  it  for  the  best,"  blubbered  the  lad.  "  What  shall 
we  doT 

"  Why,  we  must  get  out  of  it  as  fast  as  we  can,  and  leave 
the  house  to  its  fate." 

"  We  can't  get  out,"  said  the  man,  in  a  low,  hollow  tone, 
which  seemed  the  concentration  of  fear  ;  "  I  would  have  got 
out  of  it  if  I  could ;  but  just  step  to  the  back  door,  ma'am, 
and  see."  , 

I  had  not  felt  the  least  alarm  up  to  this  minute ;  I  had 
never  seen  a  fallow  burnt,  but  I  had  heard  of  it  as  a  thing  of 
such  common  occurrence  that  I  had  never  connected  with  it 
any  idea  of  danger.  Judge  then,  my  surprise,  my  horror, 
when,  on  going  to  the  back  door,  I  saw  that  the  fellow,  to 
make  sure  of  his  work,  had  fired  the  field  in  fifty  different 
places.  Behind,  before,  on  every  side,  we  were  surrounded 
by  a  wall  of  fire,  burning  furiously  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  us,  and  cutting  off  all  possibility  of  retreat ;  for  could  we 
have  found  an  opening  through  the  burning  heaps,  we  could 
not  have  seen  our  way  through  the  dense  canopy  of  smoke ; 
and,  buried  as  we  were  in  the  heart  of  the  forest,  no  one 
could  discover  our  situation  till  we  were  beyond  the  reach  of 
help.  I  closed  the  door,  and  went  back  to  the  parlour.  Fear 
was  knocking  loudly  at  my  heart,  for  our  utter  helplessness 
annihilated  all  hope  of  being  able  to  effect  our  escape — I  felt 
stupefied.  The  girl  sat  upon  the  floor  by  the  children,  who, 
unconscious  of  the  peril  that  hung  over  them,  had  both  fallen 
asleep.  She  was  silently  weeping ;  while  the  fool  who  had 
caused  the  mischief  was  crying  aloud. 

A  strange  calm  succeeded  my  first  alarm ;  tears  and 
lamentations  were  useless ;  a  horrible  death  was  impending 
over  us,  and  yet  I  could  not  believe  that  we  were  to  die.  I 
sat  down  upon  the  step  of  the  door,  and  watched  the  awful 
scene  in  silence.  The  fire  was  raging  in  the  cedar  swamp,  im- 


54  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  TEE  BUSH. 

mediately  below  the  ridge  on  which  the  house  stood,  and  it 
presented  a  spectacle  truly  appalling.  From  out  the  dense 
folds  of  a  canopy  of  black  smoke,  the  blackest  I  ever  saw, 
leaped  up  continually  red  forks  of  lurid  flame  as  high  as  the 
tree  tops,  igniting  the  branches  of  a  group  of  tall  pines  that 
had  been  left  standing  for  sun-logs.  A  deep  gloom  blotted 
out  the  heavens  from  our  sight.  The  air  was  filled  with  fiery 
particles,  which  floated  even  to  the  door-step — while  the  crack 
ling  and  roaring  of  the  flames  might  have  been  heard  at  a 
great  distance.  Could  we  have  reached  the  lake  shore,  where 
several  canoes  were  moored  at  the  landing,  by  launching  out 
into  the  water  we  should  have  been  in  perfect  safety  ;  but,  to 
attain  this  object,  it  was  necessary  to  pass  through  this  mimic 
hell ;  and  not  a  bird  could  have  flown  over  it  with  unscorched 
wings.  There  was  no  hope  in  that  quarter,  for,  could  we  have 
escaped  the  flames,  we  should  have  been  blinded  and  choked 
by  the  thick,  black,  resinous  smoke.  The  fierce  wind  drove 
the  flames  at  the  sides  and  back  of  the  house  up  the  clearing ; 
and  our  passage  to  the  road,  or  to  the  forest,  on  the  right  and 
left,  was  entirely  obstructed  by  a  sea  of  flames.  Our  only 
ark  of  safety  was  the  house,  so  long  as  it  remained  untouched 
by  the  consuming  element.  I  turned  to  young  Thomas,  and 
asked  him,  how  long  he  thought  that  would  be. 

"  When  the  fire  clears  this  little  ridge  in  front,  ma'am. 
The  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us,  then,  or  we  must  all  go !" 

*'  Cannot  you,  John,  try  and  make  your  escape,  and  see 
what  can  be  done  for  us  and  the  poor  children  1" 

My  eye  fell  upon  the  sleeping  angels,  locked  peacefully  in 
each  other's  arms,  and  my  tears  flowed  for  the  first  time. 
Mary,  the  servant-girl,  looked  piteously  up  in  my  face.  The 
good,  faithful  creature  had  not  uttered  one  word  of  complaint, 
but  now  she  faltered  forth, 

"  The  dear,  precious  lambs  ! — Oh  !  such  a  death !" 


BURNING  THE  FALLOW.  55 

I  threw  myself  down  upon  the  floor  beside  them,  and 
pressed  them  alternately  to  my  heart,  while  inwardly  I 
thanked  God  that  they  were  asleep,  unconscious  of  danger, 
and  unable  by  their  childish  cries  to  distract  our  attention 
from  adopting  any  plan  which  might  offer  to  effect  their 
escape. 

The  heat  soon  became  suffocating.  We  were  parched  with 
thirst,  and  there  was  not  a  drop  of  water  in  the  house,  and 
none  to  be  procured  nearer  than  the  lake.  I  turned  once 
more  to  the  door,  hoping  that  a  passage  might  have  been 
burnt  through  to  the  water.  I  saw  nothing  but  a  dense  cloud 
of  fire  and  smoke — could  hear  nothing  but  the  crackling  and 
roaring  of  flames,  which  were  gaining  so  fast  upon  us  that  I 
felt  their  scorching  breath  in  my  face. 

"  Ah,"  thought  I — and  it  was  a  most  bitter  thought — "  what 
will  my  beloved  husband  say  when  he  returns  and  finds  that 
poor  Susy  and  his  dear  girls  have  perished  in  this  miserable 
manner  1  But  God  can  save  us  yet." 

The  thought  had  scarcely  found  a  voice  in  my  heart  before 
the  wind  rose  to  a  hurricane,  scattering  the  flames  on  all  sides 
into  a  tempest  of  burning  billows.  I  buried  my  head  in 
my  apron,  for  I  thought  that  our  time  was  come,  and  that 
all  was  lost,  when  a  most  terrific  crash  of  thunder  burst 
over  our  heads,  and,  like  the  breaking  of  a  water-spout,  down 
came  the  rushing  torrent  of  rain  which  had  been  pent  up  for 
so  many  weeks.  In  a  few  minutes  the  chip-yard  was  all 
afloat,  and  the  fire  effectually  checked.  The  storm  which,  un 
noticed  by  us,  had  been  gathering  all  day,  and  which  was  the 
only  one  of  any  note  we  had  that  summer,  continued  to  rage 
all  night,  and  before  morning  had  quite  subdued  the  cruel 
enemy,  whose  approach  we  had  viewed  with  such  dread. 

The  imminent  danger  in  which  we  had  been  placed  struck 
me  more  forcibly  after  it  was  past  than  at  the  time,  and  both 


56  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

the  girl  and  myself  sank  upon  our  knees,  and  lifted  up  our 
hearts  in  humble  thanksgiving  to  that  God  who  had  saved  us 
by  an  act  of  His  Providence  from  an  awful  and  blidden  death. 
When  all  hope  from  human  assistance  was  lost,  His  hand  was 
'  mercifully  stretched  forth,  making  His  strength  more  perfectly 
manifested  in  our  weakness : — 

"He  is  their  stay  when  earthly  help  is  lost, 
The  light  and  anchor  of  the  tempest-toss'd." 

There  was  one  person,  unknown  to  us,  who  had  watched 
the  progress  of  that  rash  blaze,  and  had  even  brought  his 
canoe  to  the  landing,  in  the  hope  of  getting  us  off.  This  was  an 
.Irish  pensioner  named  Dunn,  who  had  cleared  a  few  acres  on 
his  government  grant,  and  had  built  a  shanty  on  the  opposite 
shore  of  the  lake. 

"  Faith,  madam !  an'  I  thought  the  captain  was  stark,  sta 
ring  mad  to  fire  his  fallow  on  such  a  windy  day,  and  that  blow 
ing  right  from  the  lake  to  the  house.  When  Old  Wittals 
came  in  and  towld  us  that  the  masther  was  not  to  the  fore, 
but  only  one  lad,  an'  the  wife  an'  the  chilther  at  home, — 
thinks  I,  there's  no  time  to  be  lost,  or  the  crathurs  will  be 
burnt  up  intirely.  We  started  instanther,  but,  by  Jove  !  we 
were  too  late.  The  swamp  was  all  in  a  blaze  when  we  got  to 
the  landing,  and  you  might  as  well  have  tried  to  get  to  heaven 
by  passing  through  the  other  place." 

This  was  the.  eloquent  harangue  with  which  the  honest 
creature  informed  me  the  next  morning  of  the  efforts  he  had 
made  to  save  us,  and  the  interest  he  had  felt  in  our  critical 
situation.  I  felt  comforted  for  my  past  anxiety,  by  knowing 
that  one  human  being,  however  humble,  had  sympathized  in 
our  probable  fate ;  wrhile  the  providential  manner  in  wThich 
we  had  been  rescued  will  ever  remain  a  theme  of  wronder  and 
gratitude. 


BURXflNV  THE  FALLOW.  57 

The  next  evening  brought  the  return  of  my  husband,  who 
listened  to  the  tale  of  our  escape  with  a  pale  and  disturbed 
countenance ;  not  a  little  thankful  to  find  his  wife  and  children 
still  in  the  land  of  the  living.  For  a  long  time  after  the 
burning  of  that  fallow,  it  haunted  me  in  my  dreams.  I  would 
awake  with  a  start,  imagining  myself  fighting  with  the  flames, 
and  endeavouring  to  carry  my  little  children  through  them  to 
the  top  of  the  clearing,  when  invariably  their  garments  and 
my  own  took  fire  just  as  I  was  within  reach  of  a  place  of 
safety. 

VOL.  II.  3* 


58  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  LUSH. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

OUR    LOGGING-BEE. 

There  was  a  man  in  our  town, 
In  our  town,  in  our  town — 
There  was  a  man  in  our  town, 
He  made  a  logging-bee ; 

And  he  bought  lots  of  whiskey, 

To  make  the  loggers  frisky— 

To  make  the  loggers  frisky 
At  his  logging-bee. 

The  Devil  sat  on  a  log  heap, 
A  log  heap,  a  log  heap— 
A  red-hot  burning  log  heap — 
A-grinning  at  the  bee ; 

And  there  was  lots  of  swearing, 

Of  boasting  and  of  dariug, 

Of  fighting  and  of  tearing, 
At  that  logging-bee. 

J.  W.  D.  M. 

A  LOGGING-BEE  followed  the  burning  of  the  fallow,  as  a 
matter  of  course.  In  the  bush,  where  hands  are  few,  and 
labour  commands  an  enormous  rate  of  wages,  these  gather 
ings  are  considered  indispensable,  and  much  has  been  written 
in  their  praise ;  but,  to  me,  they  present  the  most  disgusting 
picture  of  a  bush-life.  They  are  noisy,  riotous,  drunken  meet 
ings,  often  terminating  in  violent  quarrels,  sometimes  even  in 
bloodshed.  Accidents  of  the  most  serious  nature  often  occur, 
and  very  little  work  is  done,  when  we  consider  the  number 
of  hands  employed,  and  the  great  consumption  of  food  and 


OUR  LOGGING-BEE.  59 

liquor.  I  am  certain,  in  our  case,  had  we  hired  with  the  money 
expended  in  providing  for  the  bee,  two  or  three  industrious, 
hard-working  men,  we  should  have  got  through  twice  as  much 
work,  and  have  had  it  done  well,  and  have  been  the  gainers  in. 
the  end. 

People  in  the  woods  have  a  craze  for  giving  and  going  to 
bees,  and  run  to  them  with  as  much  eagerness  as  a  peasant 
runs  to  a  race-course  or  a  fair ;  plenty  of  strong  drink  and  ex 
citement  making  the  chief  attraction  of  the  bee.  In  raising  a 
house  or  barn,  a  bee  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  necessary  evil, 
but  these  gatherings  are  generally  conducted  hi  a  more  orderly 
manner  than  those  for  logging.  Fewer  hands  are  required  ; 
and  they  are  generally  under  the  control  of  the  carpenter  who 
puts  up  the  frame,  and  if  they  get  drunk  during  the  raising 
they  are  liable  to  meet  with  very  serious  accidents. 

Thirty-two  men,  gentle  and  simple,  were  invited  to  our 
bee,  and  the  maid  and  I  were  engaged  for  two  days  preceding 
the  important  one,  in  baking  and  cooking  for  the  entertain- 
ment  of  our  guests.  When  I  looked  at  the  quantity  of  food 
we  had  prepared,  I  thought  that  it  never  could  be  all  eaten, 
even  by  thirty-two  men.  It  was  a  burning-hot  day  towards 
the  end  of  July,  when  our  loggers  began  to  come  in,  and  the 
"  gee !"  and  "  ha !"  of  the  oxen  resounded  on  every  side. 

There  was  my  brother  S ,  with  his  frank  English  face,  a 

host  in  himself;  Lieutenant  in  his  blouse,  wide  white 

trowsers,  and  red  sash,  his  broad  straw  hat  shading  a  dark 
manly  face  that  would  have  been  a  splendid  property  for  a 

bandit  chief;  the  four  gay,  reckless,  idle  sons  of ,  famous 

at  any  spree,  but  incapable  of  the  least  mental  or  physical  ex 
ertion,  who  considered  hunting  and  fishing  as  the  sole  aim  and 
object  of  life.  These  young  men  rendered  very  little  assist 
ance  themselves,  and  their  example  deterred  others  who  were 
inclined  to  work. 


60  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

There  were  the  two  R s,  who  came  to  work  and  to 

make  others  work ;  my  good  brother-in-law,  who  had  volun 
teered  to  be  the  Grog  Bos,  and  a  host  of  other  settlers,  among 
whom  I  recognized  Hoodie's  old  acquaintance,  Dan  Simpson, 
with  his  lank  red  hair  and  long  freckled  face  ;  the  Youngs,  the 
hunters,  with  their  round,  black,  curly  heads  and  ricn  Irish 

"brogue  ;  poor  C ,  with  his  long,  spare,  consumptive  figure, 

and  thin,  sickly  face.  Poor  fellow,  he  has  long  since  been 
gathered  to  his  rest ! 

There  was  the  ruffian  quatter  P ,  from  Clear  Lake, — 

the  dread  of  all  honest  men  ;  the  brutal  M ,  who  treated 

oxen  as  if  they  had  been  logs,  by  beating  them  with  hand 
spikes  ;  and  there  was  Old  Wittals,  with  his  low  fore 
head  and  long  nose,  a  living  witness  of  the  truth  of  phrenology, 
if  his  large  organ  of  acquisitiveness  and  his  want  of  conscien 
tiousness  could  be  taken  in  evidence.  Yet  in  spite  of  his  dere 
lictions  from  honesty,  he  was  a  hard-wTorking,  good-natured 
man,  who,  if  he  cheated  you  in  a  bargain,  or  took  away  some 
useful  article  in  mistake  from  your  homestead,  never  wronged 
his  employer  in  his  day's  work. 

He  was  a  curious  sample  of  cunning  and  simplicity — quite 
a  character  in  his  way — and  the  largest  eater  I  ever  chanced 
to  know.  From  this  ravenous  propensity,  for  he  eat  his  food 
like  a  famished  wolf,  he  had  obtained  the  singular  name  of 
"  Wittals."  During  the  first  year  of  his  settlement  in  the 
bush,  with  a  very  large  family  to  provide  for,  he  had  been 
often  in  want  of  food.  One  day  he  came  to  my  brother,  with 
a  very  long  face. 

"  Tore  God !  Mr.  S ,  I'm  no  beggar,  but  I'd  be  obliged 

to  you  for  a  loaf  of  bread.  I  declare  to  you  on  my  honour 
that  I  have  not  had  a  bit  of  wittals  to  dewour  for  two  whole 
days." 

He  came  to  the  right  person  with  his  petition.     Mr.  S 


OUR  LOGGING-SEE.  61 

with  a  liberal  hand  relieved  his  wants,  but  he  entailed  upon 
him  the  name  of  "  Old  Wittals,"  as  part  payment.  His 
daughter,  who  was  a  very  pretty  girl,  had  stolen  a  march  upon 
him  into  the  wood,  with  a  lad  whom  he  by  no  means  regarded 
with  a  favourable  eye.  When  she  returned,  the  old  man  con 
fronted  her  and  her  lover  with  this  threat,  which  I  suppose 
he  considered  "  the  most  awful"  punishment  that  he  could 
devise. 

"  March  into  the  house,  Madam  'Ria  (Maria)  ;  and  if  ever 
I  catch  you  with  that  scamp  again,  I'll  tie  you  up  to  a  stump 
all  day,  and  give  you  no  wittals." 

I  was  greatly  amused  by  overhearing  a  dialogue  between 
Old  Wittals  and  one  of  his  youngest  sons,  a  sharp,  Yankeefied- 
looking  boy,  who  had  lost  one  of  his  eyes,  but  the  remaining 
orb  looked  as  if  it  could  see  all  ways  at  once. 

"  I  say,  Sol,  how  came  you  to  tell  that  tarnation  tearing 

lie  to  Mr.  S yesterday  1  Didn't  you  expect  that  you'd 

catch  a  good  wallopping  for  the  like  of  that  1  Lying  may  be 
excusable  in  a  man,  but  'tis  a  terrible  bad  habit  in  a  boy." 

"  Lor',  father,  that  worn't  a  lie.  I  told  Mr.  S ,  our 

cow  worn't  in  his  peas.  Nor  more  she  wor :  she  was  in  his 
wheat." 

"  But  she  was  in  the  peas  all  night,  boy." 

"  That  wor  nothing  to  me  ;  she  worn't  in  just  then.  Sure 
I  won't  get  a  licking  for  that  ?" 

"No,  no,  you  are  a  good  boy  ;  but  mind  what  I  tell  you, 
and  don't  bring  me  into  a  scrape  with  any  of  your  real  lies." 

Prevarication,  the  worst  of  falsehoods,  was  a  virtue  in  his 
eyes.  So  much  for  the  old  man's  morality. 

Monaghan  was  in  his  glory,  prepared  to  work  or  fight, 
whichever  should  come  uppermost;  and  there  was  old 
Thomas  and  his  sons,  the  contractors  for  the  clearing,  to 
expedite  whose  movements  the  bee  was  called.  Old  Thomas 


62  EOUQBING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

was  a  very  ambitious  man  in  his  way.  Though  he  did  not 
know  A  from  B,  he  took  it  into  his  head  that  he  had  received 
a  call  from  Heaven  to  convert  the  heathen  in  the  wilderness  ; 
and  every  Sunday  he  held  a  meeting  in  our  logger's  shanty, 
for  the  purpose  of  awakening  sinners,  and  bringing  over 
"  Injun  pagans"  to  the  true  faith.  His  method  of  accomplish 
ing  this  object  was  very  ingenious.  He  got  his  wife,  Peggy 
— or  "  my  Paggy,"  as  he  called  her — to  read  aloud  for  him  a 
text  from  the  Bible,  until  he  knew  it  by  heart ;  and  he  had, 
as  he  said  truly,  "  a  good  remembrancer,"  and  never  heard  a 
striking  sermon  but  he  retained  the  most  important  passages, 
and  retailed  them  secondhand  to  his  bush  audience. 

I  must  say  that  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  at  the  old  man's 
eloquence  when  I  went  one  Sunday  over  to  the  shanty  to  hear 
him  preach.  Several  wild  young  fellows  had  come  on  purpose 
to  make  fun  of  him ;  but  his  discourse,  which  was  upon  the 
text,  "  We  shall  all  meet  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ," 
was  rather  too  serious  a  subject  to  turn  into  a  jest,  with  even 
old  Thomas  for  the  preacher.  All  went  on  very  well  until 
the  old  man  gave  out  a  hyrnn,  and  led  off  in  such  a  loud,  dis 
cordant  voice,  that  my  little  Katie,  who  was  standing  between 
her  father's  knees,  looked  suddenly  up,  and  said,  "  Mamma, 
what  a  noise  old  Thomas  makes !"  This  remark  led  to  a 
much  greater  noise,  and  the  young  men,  unable  to  restrain 
their  long-suppressed  laughter,  ran  tumultuously  from  the 
shanty.  I  could  have  whipped  the  little  elf;  but  small  blame 
could  be  attached  to  a  child  of  two  years  old,  who  had  never 
heard  a  preacher,  especially  such  a  preacher  as  the  old  back 
woodsman,  in  her  life.  Poor  man !  he  was  perfectly  uncon 
scious  of  the  cause  of  the  disturbance,  and  remarked  to  us, 
after  the  service  was  over, 

"  Well,  ma'am,  did  not  we  get  on  famously  ?  Now,  worn't 
that  a  bootiful  discourse  T 


OUR  LOGGING-BEE.  63 

"  It  was,  indeed  ;  much  better  than  I  expected." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  I  knew  it  would  please  you.  It  had  quite  an 
effect  on  those  wild  fellows.  A  few  more  such  sermons  will 
teach  them  good  behaviour.  Ah  !  the  bush  is  a  bad  place  for 
young  men.  The  farther  in  the  bush,  say  I,  the  farther  from 

God,  and  the  nearer  to  hell.  I  told  that  wicked  Captain  I 

of  Dummer  so  the  other  Sunday ;  '  an','  says  he, '  if  you  don't 
hold  your  confounded  jaw,  you  old  fool,  I'll  kick  you  there.7 
Now,  ma'am,  now,  sir,  was  not  that  bad  manners  in  a  gentle 
man,  to  use  such  appropriate  epitaphs  to  a  humble  servant  of 
God,  like  I T 

And  thus  the  old  man  ran  on  for  an  hour,  dilating  upon 
his  own  merits  and  the  sins  of  his  neighbours. 

There  was  John  R ,  from  Smith-town,  the  most  noto 
rious  swearer  in  the  district ;  a  man  who  esteemed  himself 
clever,  nor  did  he  want  for  natural  talent,  but  he  had  con 
verted  his  mouth  into  such  a  sink  of  iniquity  that  it  corrupted 
the  whole  man,  and  all  the  weak  and  thoughtless  of  his  own 
sex  who  admitted  him  into  their  company.  I  had  tried  to 

convince  John  R (for  he  often  frequented  the  house 

under  the  pretence  of  borrowing  books)  of  the  great  crime 
that  he  was  constantly  committing,  and  of  the  injurious  effect 
it  must  produce  upon  his  own  family,  but  the  mental  disease 
had  taken  too  deep  a  root  to  be  so  easily  cured.  Like  a 
person  labouring  under  some  foul  disease,  he  contaminated  all 
he  touched.  Such  men  seem  to  make  an  ambitious  display 
of  their  bad  habits  in  such  scenes,  and  if  they  afford  a  little 
help,  they  are  sure  to  get  intoxicated  and  make  a  row.  There 
•was  my  friend,  old  Ned  Dunn,  who  had  been  so  anxious  to 
get  us  out  of  the  burning  fallow.  There  was  a  whole  group 
of  Dummer  Pines  :  Levi,  the  little  wiry,  witty  poacher;  Cor 
nish  Bill,  the  honest-hearted  old  peasant,  with  his  stalwart 
figure  and  uncouth  dialect;  and  David,  and  Ned — all  good 


64  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

men  and  true;  and  Malachi  Chroak,  a  queer,  withered-up, 
monkey-man,  that  seemed  like  some  mischievous  elf,  flitting 
from  heap  to  heap  to  make  work  and  fun  for  the  rest ;  and 
many  others  were  at  that  bee  who  have  since  found  a  rest  in 

the  wilderness:  Adam  T ,  H ,  J.  M ,  H.  N . 

These,  at  different  times,  lost  their  lives  in  those  bright  waters 
in  which,  on  such  occasions  as  these,  they  used  to  sport  and 
frolic  to  refresh  themselves  during  the  noonday  heat.  Alas ! 
how  many,  who  were  then  young  and  in  their  prime,  that  river 
and  its  lakes  have  swept  away ! 

Our  men  wrorked  well  until  dinner-time,  when,  after  wash 
ing  in  the  lake,  they  all  sat  down  to  the  rude  board  which  I 
had  prepared  for  them,  loaded  with  the  best  fare  that  could 
be  procured  in  the  bush.  Pea-soup,  legs  of  pork,  venison, 
eel,  and  raspberry  pies,  garnished  with  plenty  of  potatoes, 
and  whiskey  to  wash  them  down,  besides  a  large  iron  kettle 
of  tea.  To  pour  out  the  latter,  and  dispense  it  round,  de 
volved  upon  me.  My  brother  and  his  friends,  who  were  all 
temperance  men,  and  consequently  the  best  workers  in  the 
field,  kept  me  and  the  maid  actively  employed  in  replenishing 
their  cups. 

The  dinner  passed  off  tolerably  well ;  some  of  the  lower 
order  of  the  Irish  settlers  were  pretty  far  gone,  but  they  com 
mitted  no  outrage  upon  our  feelings  by  either  swearing  or  bad 
language,  a  few  harmless  jokes  alone  circulating  among  them. 

Some  one  was  funning  Old  Wittals  for  having  eaten  seven 

large  cabbages  at  Mr.  T 's  bee,  a  few  days  previous.  His 

son,  Sol, "thought  himself,  as  in  duty  bound,  to  take  up  the 
cudgel  for  his  father. 

"Now,  I  guess  that's  a  lie,  anyhow.  Fayther  was  sick 
that  day,  and  I  tell  you  he  only  ate  five." 

This  announcement  was  followed  by  such  an  explosion  of 
mirth  that  the  boy  looked  fiercely  round  him,  as  if  he  could 


OUR  LOGGING-SEE.  65 

scarcely  believe  the  fact  that  the  whole  party  were  laughing 
at  him. 

Malachi  Chroak,  who  was  good-naturedly  drunk,  had  dis 
covered  an  old  pair  of  cracked  bellows  in  a  corner,  which  he 
placed  under  his  arm,  and  applying  his  mouth  to  the  pipe, 
and  working  his  elbows  to  and  fro,  pretended  that  he  was 
playing  upon  the  bagpipes,  every  now  and  then  letting  the 
wind  escape  in  a  shrill  squeak  from  this  novel  instrument. 

"  Arrah,  ladies  and  jintlemen,  do  jist  turn  your  swate  little 
eyes  upon  me  whilst  I  play  for  your  iddifications  the  last  illi- 
gant  tune  which  my  owld  grandmother  taught  me.  Och  hone  ! 
'tis  a  thousand  pities  that  such  musical  owld  crathurs  should  be 
suffered  to  die,  at  all  at  all,  to  be  poked  away  into  a  dirthy, 
dark  hole,  when  their  canthles  shud  be  burnin'  a-top  of  a 
bushel,  givin'  light  to  the  house.  An'  then  it  is  she  that  was 
the  illigant  dancer,  stepping  out  so  lively  and  frisky,  just  so." 

And  here  he  minced  to  and  fro,  affecting  the  airs  of  a  fine 
lady.  The  supposititious  bagpipe  gave  an  uncertain,  ominous 
howl,  and  he  flung  it  down,  and  started  back  with  a  ludicrous 
expression  of  alarm. 

"  Alive,  is  it  ye  are  ?  Ye  croaking  owld  divil,  is  that  the 
tune  you  taught  your  son  ? 

"  Och !  my  owld  granny  taught  me,  but  now  she  is  dead, 
That  a  dhrop  of  nate  whiskey  is  good  for  the  head ; 
It  would  make  a  man  spake  when  jist  ready  to  dhie, 
If  you  doubt  it — my  boys  ! — I'd  advise  you  to  thry. 

"  Och  !  my  owld  granny  sleeps  with  her  head  on  a  stone, — 
1  Now,  Malach,  don't  throuble  the  gals  when  I'm  gone  !' 
I  thried  to  obey  her ;  but,  och,  I  am  shure, 
There's  no  sorrow  on  earth  that  the  angels  can't  cure. 

11  Och  !  I  took  her  advice — I'm  a  bachelor  still ; 
And  I  dance,  and  I  play,  with  such  excellent  skill, 

(Taking  vp  the  belloius,  and  beginning  to  dance.) 
That  the  dear  little  crathurs  are  striving  in  vain 
Which  first  shall  my  hand  or  my  forlin'  obtain." 


66  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  JSUSII. 

"  Malach !"  shouted  a  laughing  group.  "  How  was  it  that 
the  old  lady  taught  you  to  go  a-courting  ?" 

"Arrah,  that's  a  sacret!  I  don't  let  out  owld  granny's 
sacrets,"  said  Malachi,  gracefully  waving  his  head  to  and  fro 
to  the  squeaking  of  the  bellows ;  then,  suddenly  tossing  back 
the  long,  dangling,  black  elf-locks  that  curled  down  the  sides 
of  his  lank,  yellow  cheeks,  and  winking  knowingly  with  his 
comical  little  deep-seated  black  eyes,  he  burst  out  again — 

"  Wid  the  blarney  I'd  win  the  most  dainty  proud  dame, 
No  gal  can  resist  the  soft  sound  of  that  same ; 
Wid  the  blarney,  my  boys — if  you  doubt  it,  go  thry — 
But  hand  here  the  bottle,  my  whistle  is  dhry." 

The  men  went  back  to  the  field,  leaving  Malachi  to  amuse 
those  who  remained  in  the  house ;  and  we  certainly  did  laugh 
our  fill  at  his  odd  capers  and  conceits. 

Then  he  would  insist  upon  marrying  our  maid.  There 
could  be  no  refusal — have  her  he  would.  The  girl,  to  keep 
him  quiet,  laughingly  promised  that  she  would  take  him  for 
her  husband.  This  did  not  satisfy  him.  She  must  take  her 
oath  upon  the  Bible  to  that  effect.  Mary  pretended  that 
there  was  no  bible  in  the  house,  but  he  found  an  old  spelling- 
book  upon  a  shelf  in  the  kitchen,  and  upon  it  he  made  her 
swear,  and  called  upon  me  to  bear  witness  to  her  oath,  that 
she  was  now  his  betrothed,  and  he  would  go  next  day  with 
her  to  the  "  praist."  Poor  Mary  had  reason  to  repent  her 
frolic,  for  he  stuck  close  to  her  the  whole  evening,  tormenting 
her  to  fulfil  her  contract.  After  the  sun  went  down,  the  log 
ging-band  came  in  to  supper,  which  was  all  ready  for  them. 
Those  who  remained  sober  ate  the  meal  in  peace,  and  quietly 
returned  to  their  own  homes;  while  the  vicious  and  the 
drunken  staid  to  brawl  and  fight. 

After  having  placed  the  supper  on  the  table,  I  was  so  tired 


OUR  LOGGING-BEE.  67 

with  the  noise,  and  heat,  and  fatigue  of  the  day,  that  I  went 
to  bed,  leaving  to  Mary  and  my  husband  the  care  of  the 
guests. 

We  were  obliged  to  endure  a  second  and  a  third  repetition 
of  this  odious  scene,  before  sixteen  acres  of  land  were  rendered 
fit  for  the  reception  of  our  fall  crop  of  wheat. 

My  hatred  to  these  tumultuous,  disorderly  meetings  was 
not  in  the  kast  decreased  by  my  husband  being  twice  seriously 
hurt  while  attending  them.  After  the  second  injury  he  re 
ceived,  he  seldom  went  to  them  himself,  but  sent  his  oxen  and 
servant  in  his  place.  In  these  odious  gatherings,  the  sober, 
moral,  and  industrious  man  is  more  likely  to  suffer  than  the 
drunken  and  profane,  as  during  the  delirium  of  drink  these 
men  expose  others  to  danger  as  well  as  themselves. 

The  conduct  of  many  of  the  settlers,  who  considered  them 
selves  gentlemen,  and  would  have  been  very  much  affronted 
to  have  been  called  otherwise,  was  often  more  reprehensible 
than  that  of  the  poor  Irish  emigrants,  to  whom  they  should 
have  set  an  example  of  order  and  sobriety.  The  behaviour 
of  these  young  men  drew  upon  them  the  severe  but  just  cen 
sures  of  the  poorer  class,  whom  they  regarded  in  every  way 
as  their  inferiors. 

"  That  blackguard  calls  himself  a  gentleman.  In  what 
respect  is  he  better  than  us  1"  was  an  observation  too  fre 
quently  made  use  of  at  these  gatherings.  To  see  a  bad  man 
in  the  very  worst  point  of  view,  follow  him  to  a  bee  ;  be  he 
profane,  licentious,  quarrelsome,  or  a  rogue,  all  his  native 
wickedness  will  be  fully  developed  there. 

Just  after  the  last  of  these  logging-bees,  we  had  to  part 
with  our  good  servant  Mary,  and  just  at  a  time  when  it  was 
the  heaviest  loss  to  me.  Her  father,  who  had  been  a  dairy 
man  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  an  honest,  industrious  man,  had 
brought  out  upwards  of  one  hundred  pounds  to  this  country. 


68  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

With  more  wisdom  than  is  generally  exercised  by  Irish  emi 
grants,  instead  of  sinking  all  his  means  in  buying  a  bush  farm, 
he  hired  a  very  good  farm  in  Cavan,  stocked  it  with  cattle,  and 
returned  to  his  old  avocation.  The  services  of  his  daughter, 
who  was  an  excellent  dairymaid,  were  required  to  take  the 
management  of  the  cows  ;  and  her  brother  brought  a  wagon 
and  horses  all  the  way  from  the  front  to  take  her  home. 

This  event  was  perfectly  unexpected,  and  left  me  without 
a  moment's  notice  to  provide  myself  with  another  servant,  at 
a  time  when  servants  were  not  to  be  had,  and  I  was  perfectly 
unable  to  do  the  least  thing.  My  little  Addie  was  sick  almost 
to  death  with  the  summer  complaint,  and  the  eldest  still  too 
young  to  take  care  of  herself.  • 

This  was  but  the  beginning  of  trouble. 

Ague  and  lake  fever  had  attacked  our  new  settlement. 
The  men  in  the  shanty  were  all  down  with  it ;  and  my 
husband  was  confined  to  his  bed  on  each  alternate  day,  unable 
to  raise  hand  or  foot,  and  raving  in  the  delirium  of  the  fever. 

In  my  sister  and  brother's  families,  scarcely  a  healthy  per 
son  remained  to  attend  upon  the  sick ;  and  at  Herriot's  Falls, 
nine  persons  were  stretched  upon  the  floor  of  one  log  cabin, 
unable  to  help  themselves  or  one  another.  After  much  diffi 
culty,  and  only  by  offering  enormous  wages,  I  succeeded  in 
procuring  a  nurse  to  attend  upon  me  during  my  confinement. 
The  woman  had  not  been  a  day  in  the  house  before  she  was 
attacked  by  the  same  fever.  In  the  midst  of  this  confusion, 
and  with  my  precious  little  Addie  lying  insensible  on  a  pillow 
at  the  foot  of  my  bed — expected  every  moment  to  breathe 
her  last  sigh, — on  the  night  of  the  26th  of  August,  the  boy  I 
had  so  ardently  coveted  was  born.  The  next  day,  Old  Pine 
carried  his  wife  (my  nurse)  away  upon  his  back,  and  I  was 
left  to  struggle  through,  in  the  best  manner  I  could,  with  a 
Bick  husband,  a  sick  child,  and  a  new-born  babe. 


OV%  LOGGING-BEE.  69 

It  was  a  melancholy  season,  one  of  severe  mental  and 
bodily  suffering.  Those  who  have  drawn  such  agreeable  pic 
tures  of  a  residence  in  the  backwoods  never  dwell  upon  the 
periods  of  sickness,  when,  far  from  medical  advice,  and  often, 
as  in  my  case,  deprived  of  the  assistance  of  friends  by  ad 
verse  circumstances,  you  are  left  to  languish,  unattended,  upon 
the  couch  of  pain.  The  day  that  my  husband  was  free  of  the 
fit,  he  did  what  he  could  for  me  and  his  poor  sick  babes,  but, 
ill  as  he  was,  he  was  obliged  to  sow  the  wheat  to  enable  the 
man  to  proceed  with  the  drag,  and  was  therefore  necessarily 
absent  in  the  field  the  greater  part  of  the  day. 

I  was  very  ill,  yet  for  hours  at  a  time  I  had  no  friendly 
voice  to  cheer  me,  to  proffer  me  a  drink  of  cold  water,  or  to 
attend  to  the  poor  babe ;  and  worse,  still  worse,  there  was  no 
one  to  help  that  pale,  marble  child,  who  lay  so  cold  and  still, 
with  half-closed  violet  eye,  as  if  death  had  already  chilled  her 
young  heart  in  his  iron  grasp. 

There  was  not  a  breath  of  air  in  our  close,  burning  bed- 
closet  ;  and  the  weather  was  sultry  beyond  all  that  I  have 
since  experienced.  How  I  wished  that  I  could  be  transported 
to  an  hospital  at  home,  to  enjoy  the  common  care  that  in  such 
places  is  bestowed  upon  the  sick  !  Bitter  tears  flowed  con 
tinually  from  my  eyes  over  those  young  children.  I  had 
asked  of  Heaven  a  son,  and  there  he  lay  helpless  by  the  side 
of  his  almost  equally  helpless  mother,  who  could  not  lift  him 
up  in  her  arms,  or  still  his  cries ;  while  the  pale,  fair  angel, 
with  her  golden  curls,  who  had  lately  been  the  admiration  of 
all  who  saw  her,  no  longer  recognized  my  voice,  or  was  con 
scious  of  my  presence.  I  felt  that  I  could  almost  resign  the 
long  and  eagerly  hoped-for  son,  to  win  one  more  smile  from 
that  sweet,  suffering  creaturie.  Often  did  I  weep  myself  to 
sleep,  and  wake  to  weep  again  with  renewed  anguish. 

And  my  poor  little  Katie,  herself  under  three  years  of  age, 


70  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE 

how  patiently  she  bore  the  loss  of  my  care,  and  every  com 
fort  !  How  earnestly  the  dear  thing  strove  to  help  me  !  She 
would  sit  on  my  sick-bed,  and  hold  my  hand,  and  ask  me  to 
look  at  her  and  speak  to  her ;  would  inquire  why  Addie  slept 
so  long,  and  when  she  would  awake  again.  Those  innocent 

questions  went  like  arrows  to  my  heart.  Lieutenant , 

the  husband  of  my  dear  Emilia,  at  length  heard  of  my  situa 
tion.  His  inestimable  wife  was  from  home,  nursing  her  sick 
mother;  but  he  sent  his  maid-servant  up  every  day  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  and  the  kind  girl  despatched  a  messenger 
nine  miles  through  the  woods  to  Dummer,  to  fetch  her 
younger  sister,  a  child  of  twelve  years  old. 

Oh,  how  grateful  I  felt  for  these  signal  mercies !  for  my 
situation  for  nearly  a  week  was  one  of  the  most  pitiable  that 
could  be  imagined.  The  sickness  was  so  prevalent  that  help 
was  not  to  be  obtained  for  money ;  and  without  the  assist 
ance  of  that  little  girl,  young  as  she  was,  it  is  more  than  prob 
able  that  neither  myself  nor  my  children  would  ever  have 
risen  from  that  bed  of  sickness. 

The  conduct  of  our  man  Jacob,  during  this  trying  period, 
was  marked  with  the  greatest  kindness  and  consideration. 
On  the  days  that  his  master  was  confined  to  his  bed  with  the 
fever,  he  used  to  place  a  vessel  of  cold  water  and  a  cup  by 
his  bedside,  and  then  put  his  honest  English  face  in  at  my 
door  to  know  if  he  could  make  a  cup  of  tea,  or  toast  a  bit  of 
bread  for  the  mistress,  before  he  went  into  the  field. 

Katie  was  indebted  to  him  for  all  her  meals.  He  baked, 
and  cooked,  and  churned,  milked  the  cows,  and  made  up  the 
butter,  as  wrell  and  as  carefully  as  the  best  female  servant 
could  have  done.  As  to  poor  John  Monaghan,  he  was  down 
with  the  fever  in  the  shanty,  where  four  other  men  were  all  ill 
with  the  same  terrible  complaint. 

I  was  obliged  to  leave  my  bed  and  endeavour  to  attend  to 


OUR  LOGGING-SEE.  71 

the  wants  of  my  young  family  long  before  I  was  really  able. 
When  I  made  my  first  attempt  to  reach  the  parlour  I  was  so 
weak,  that,  at  every  step,  I  felt  as  if  I  should  pitch  forward  to 
the  ground,  which  seemed  to  undulate  beneath  my  feet  like 
the  floor  of  a  cabin  in  a  storm  at  sea.  My  husband  continued 
to  suffer  for  many  weeks  with  the  ague ;  and  when  he  was 
convalescent,  all  the  children,  even  the  poor  babe,  were  seized 
with  it ;  nor  did  it  leave  us  until  late  in  the  spring  of  1835. 


72  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSS. 


CHAPTER    Y. 

A    TRIP     TO     STONY     LAKE. 

husband  had  long  promised  me  a  trip  to  Stony  Lake, 
and  in  the  summer  of  1835,  before  the  harvest  com 

menced,  he  gave  Mr.  Y ,  who  kept  the  mill  at  the  rapids 

below  Clear  Lake,  notice  of  our  intention,  and  the  worthy  old 
man  and  his  family  made  due  preparation  for  our  reception. 
The  little  girls  were  to  accompany  us. 

We  were  to  start  at  sunrise,  to  avoid  the  heat  of  the  day, 

to  go  up  as  far  as  Mr.  Y 's  in  our  canoe,  re-embark  with 

his  sons  above  the  rapids  in  birch-bark  canoes,  go  as  far  up 
the  lake  as  we  could  accomplish  by  daylight,  and  return  at 
night ;  the  weather  being  very  warm,  and  the  moon  at  full. 
Before  six  o'clock  we  were  all  seated  in  the  little  craft,  which 
spread  her  white  sail  to  a  foaming  breeze,  and  sped  merrily 
over  the  blue  waters.  The  lake  on  which  our  clearing  stood 
was  about  a  mile  and  a  half  in  length,  and  about  three  quar 
ters  of  a  mile  in  breadth  ;  a  mere  pond,  when  compared  with 
the  Bay  of  Quinte,  Ontario,  and  the  inland  seas  of  Canada. 
But  it  was  our  lake,  and,  consequently,  it  had  ten  thousand 
beauties  in  our  eyes,  which  would  scarcely  have  attracted  the 
observation  of  a  stranger. 

At  the  head  of  the  Kutchawanook,  the  lake  is  divided  by 
a  long  neck  of  land,  that  forms  a  small  bay  on  the  right-hand 
side,  and  a  very  brisk  rapid  on  the  left.  The  banks  are  formed 
of  large  masses  of  limestone;  and  the  cardinal-flower  and  the 


A   TRIP  TO  STONY  LAKE.  73 

tiger-lily  seem  to  have  taken  an  especial  fancy  to  this  spot, 
and  to  vie  with  each  other  in  the  display  of  their  gorgeous 
colours. 

It  is  an  excellent  place  for  fishing ;  the  water  is  very  deep 
close  to  the  roclry  pavement  that  forms  the  bank,  and  it  has  a 
pebbly  bottom.  Many  a  magic  hour,  at  rosy  dawn,  or  even 
ing  gray,  have  I  spent  with  my  husband  on  this  romantic 
spot ;  our  canoe  fastened  to  a  bush,  and  ourselves  intent  upon 
ensnaring  the  black  bass,  a  fish  of  excellent  flavour  that 
abounds  in  this  place. 

Our  paddles  soon  carried  us  past  the  narrows,  and  through 
the  rapid  water,  the  children  sitting  quietly  at  the  bottom  of 
the  boat,  enchanted  with  all  they  heard  and  saw,  begging  papa 
to  stop  and  gather  water-lilies,  or  to  catch  one  of  the  splendid 
butterflies  that  hovered  over  us ;  and  often  the  little  Addie 
darted  her  white  hand  into  the  water  to  grasp  at  the  shadow 
of  the  gorgeous  insects  as  they  skimmed  along  the  waves. 

After  passing  the  rapids,  the  river  widened  into  another 
small  lake,  perfectly  round  in  form,  and  having  in  its  centre  a 
tiny  green  island,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood,  like  a  shattered 
monument  of  bygone  storms,  one  blasted,  black  ash-tree. 

The  Indians  call  this  lake  Bessikakoon,  but  I  do  not  know 
the  exact  meaning  of  the  word.  Some  say  that  it  means  "  the 
Indian's  grave ;"  others,  "  the  lake  of  the  one  island."  It  is 
certain  that  an  Indian  girl  is  buried  beneath  that  blighted 
tree  ;  but  I  never  could  learn  the  particulars  of  her  story,  and 
perhaps  there  was  no  tale  connected  with  it.  She  might  have 
fallen  a  victim  to  disease  during  the  wanderings  of  her  tribe, 
and  been  buried  on  that  spot ;  or  she  might  have  been 
drowned,  which  would  account  for  her  having  been  buried 
away  from  the  rest  of  her  people. 

This  little  lake  lies  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness.  There 
is  but  one  clearing  upon  its  shores,  and  that  had  been  made 

VOL.  II.  4 


74  MOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

by  lumberers  many  years  before ;  the  place  abounded  with 
red  cedar.  A  second  growth  of  young  timber  had  grown  up 
in  this  spot,  which  was  covered  also  with  raspberry  bushes — 
several  hundred  acres  being  entirely  overgrown  with  this  de 
licious  berry. 

It  was  here  annually  that  we  used  to  come  in  large  picnic 
parties,  to  collect  this  valuable  fruit  for  our  winter  preserves, 
in  defiance  of  black-flies,  mosquitoes,  snakes,  and  even  bears ; 
all  which  have  been  encountered  by  berry-pickers  upon  this 
spot,  as  busy  and  as  active  as  themselves,  gathering  an  ample 
repast  from  Nature's  bounteous  lap. 

And,  oh !  what  beautiful  wild  shrubs  and  flowers  grew  up 
in  that  neglected  spot !  Some  of  the  happiest  hours  I  spent 
in  the  bush  are  connected  with  reminiscences  of  "  Irving's 
shanty,"  for  so  the  raspberry-grounds  were  called.  The  clear 
ing  could  not  be  seen  from  the  shore.  You  had  to  scramble 
through  a  cedar  swamp  to  reach  the  sloping  ground  which 
produced  the  berries. 

The  mill  at  the  Clear  Lake  rapids  was  about  three  miles 
distant  from  our  own  clearing ;  and  after  stemming  another 
rapid,  and  passing  between  two  beautiful  wooded  islands,  the 
canoe  rounded  a  point,  and  the  rude  structure  was  before  us. 

A  wilder  and  more  romantic  spot  than  that  which  the  old 
hunter  had  chosen  for  his  homestead  in  the  wilderness  could 
scarcely  be  imagined.  The  waters  of  Clear  Lake  here  empty 
themselves  through  a  narrow,  deep,  rocky  channel,  not  exceed 
ing  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length,  and  tumble  over  a  limestone 
bridge  of  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  height,  which  extends  from  one 
bank  of  the  river  to  the  other.  The  shores  on  either  side  are 
very  steep,  and  the  large  oak-trees  which  have  anchored  their 
roots  in  every  crevice  of  the  rock,  throw  their  fantastic  arms 
far  over  the  foaming  waterfall,  the  deep  green  of  their  massy 
foliage  forming  a  beautiful  contrast  with  the  white,  flashing 


A  TRIP  TO  STONY  LAKE.  75 

waters  that  foam  over  the  shoot  at  least  fifty  feet  below  the 
brow  of  the  limestone  rock.  By  a  flight  of  steps  cut  in  the 
banks  we  ascended  to  the  platform  above  the  river  on  which 
Mr.  Y 's  house  stood. 

It  was  a  large,  rough-looking,  log  building,  surrounded  by 
barns  and  sheds  of  the  same  primitive  material.  The  porch 
before  the  door  was  covered  with  hops,  and  the  room  of  gen 
eral  resort,  into  which  it  immediately  opened,  was  of  large 
dimensions,  the  huge  fire-place  forming  the  most  striking  fea 
ture.  On  the  hearth-stone,  hot  as  was  the  weather,  blazed  a 
great  fire,  encumbered  with  all  sorts  of  culinary  apparatus, 
which,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  had  been  called  into  requisition 
for  our  sole  benefit  and  accommodation. 

The  good  folks  had  breakfasted  long  before  we  started  from 
home,  but  they  would  not  hear  of  our  proceeding  to  Stony 
Lake  until  after  we  had  dined.  It  was  only  eight  o'clock, 
A.  M.,  and  we  had  still  four  hours  to  dinner,  which  gave 
us  ample  leisure  to  listen  to  the  old  man's  stories,  ramble 
round  the  premises,  and  observe  all  the  striking  features  of 
the  place. 

Mr.  Y was  a  Catholic,  and  the  son  of  a  respectable 

farmer  from  the  south  of  Ireland.  Some  few  years  before,  he 
had  emigrated  with  a  large  family  of  seven  sons  and  two 
daughters,  and  being  fond  of  field  sports,  and  greatly  taken 
with  the  beauty  of  the  locality  in  which  he  had  pitched  his 
tent  in  the  wilderness,  he  determined  to  raise  a  mill  upon  the 
dam  which  Nature  had  provided  at  his  hands,  and  wait  pa 
tiently  until  the  increasing  immigration  should  settle  the  town 
ship  of  Smith  and  Douro,  render  the  property  valuable,  and 
bring  plenty  of  grist  to  the  mill.  lie  was  not  far  wrong  in  his 
calculations ;  and  though,  for  the  first  few  years,  he  subsisted 
entirely  by  hunting,  fishing,  and  raising  what  potatoes  and 
wheat  he  required  for  his  own  family,  on  the  most  fertile  spots 


76  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  J8USIT. 

he  could  find  on  his  barren  lot,  very  little  corn  passed  through 
the  mill. 

At  the  time  we  visited  his  place,  he  was  driving  a  thriving 
trade,  and  all  the  wheat  that  was  grown  in  the  neighbourhood 

was  brought  by  water  to  be  ground  at  Y 's  mill.  He  had 

lost  his  wife  a  few  years  after  coming  to  the  country ;  but  his 
two  daughters,  Betty  and  Norah,  were  excellent  housewives, 
and  amply  supplied  her  loss.  From  these  amiable  women 
we  received  a  most  kind  and  hearty  welcome,  and  every 
comfort  and  luxury  within  their  reach.  They  appeared  a 
most  happy  and  contented  family.  The  sons — a  fine,  hardy, 
independent  set  of  fellows — were  regarded  by  the  old  man 
with  pride  and  affection.  Many  were  his  anecdotes  of  their 
prowess  in  hunting  and  fishing.  His  method  of  giving  them 
an  aversion  to  strong  drink  while  very  young  amused  me 
greatly,  but  it  is  not  every  child  that  could  have  stood  the  test 
of  his  experiment. 

"  When  they  were  little  chaps,  from  five  to  six  years  of 
age,  I  made  them  very  drunk,"  he  said ;  "  so  drunk  that  it 
brought  on  severe  headache  and  sickness,  and  this  so  disgusted 
them  with  liquor,  that  they  never  could  abide  the  sight  of  it 
again.  I  have  only  one  drunkard  among  the  seven ;  and  he 
was  such  a  weak,  puling  crathur,  that  I  dared  not  play  the 
same  game  with  him,  lest  it  should  kill  him.  'Tis  his  nature, 
I  suppose,  and  he  can't  help  it ;  but  the  truth  is,  that  to  make 
up  for  the  sobriety  of  all  the  rest,  he  is  killing  himself  with 
drink." 

Norah  gave  us  an  account  of  her  catching  a  deer  that  had 
got  into  -the  enclosure  the  day  before. 

"  I  went  out,"  she  said,  "  early  in  the  morning,  to  milk  the 
cows,  and  I  saw  a  fine  young  buck  struggling  to  get  through 
a  pale  of  the  fence,  in  which  having  entangled  his  head  and 
horns,  I  knew,  by  the  desperate  efforts  he  was  making  to  push 


A   TRIP  TO  STONY  LAKE.  77- 

aside  the  rails,  that  if  I  was  not  quick  in  getting  hold  of  him, 
he  would  soon  be  gone." 

"  And  did  you  dare  to  touch  him  ?" 

"  If  I  had  had  Mat's  gun  I  would  have  shot  him,  but  he 
would  have  made  his  escape  long  before  I  could  run  to  the 
house  for  that,  so  I  went  boldly  up  to  him  and  got  him  by  the 
hind  legs ;  and  though  he  kicked  and  struggled  dreadfully,  I 
held  on  till  Mat  heard  me  call,  and  ran  to  my  help,  and  cut 
his  throat  with  his  hunting-knife.  So  you  see,"  she  con 
tinued,  with  a  good-natured  laugh,  "  I  can  beat  our  hunters 
hollow — they  hunt  the  deer,  but  I  can  catch  a  buck  with  my 
hands." 

While  we  were  chatting  away,  great  were  the  preparations 
making  by  Miss  Betty  and  a  very  handsome  American  woman, 
who  had  recently  come  thither  as  a  help.  One  little  bare 
footed  garsoon  was  shelling  peas  in  an  Indian  basket,  another 
was  stringing  currants  into  a  yellow  pie-dish,  and  a  third 
was  sent  to  the  rapids  with  his  rod  and  line,  to  procure  a  dish 
of  fresh  fish  to  add  to  the  long  list  of  bush  dainties  that  were 
preparing  for  our  dinner.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  begged  our 
kind  entertainers  not  to  put  themselves  to  the  least  trouble  on 
our  account,  telling  them  that  we  were  now  used  to  the  woods, 
and  contented  with  any  thing;  they  were  determined  to  ex 
haust  all  their  stores  to  furnish  forth  the  entertainment.  Nor 
can  it  be  wondered  at,  that,  with  so  many  dishes  to  cook,  and 
pies  and  custards  to  bake,  instead  of  dining  at  twelve,  it  was 
past  two  o'clock  before  we  were  conducted  to  the  dinner-table, 
I  was  vexed  and  disappointed  at  the  delay,  as  I  wanted  to,  see 
all  I  could  of  the  spot  we  were  about  to  visit  before  night 
and  darkness  compelled  us  to  return. 

The  feast  was  spread  in  a  large  outhouse,  the  table  being 
formed  of  two  broad  deal  boards  laid  together,  and  supported 
by  rude  carpenter's  stools.  A  white  linen  cloth,  a  relic  of 


78  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  JBUSH. 

better  days,  concealed  these  arrangements.  The  board  was 
covered  with  an  indescribable  variety  of  roast  and  boiled,  of 
fish,  flesh,  and  fowl.  My  readers  should  see  a  table  laid  out 
in  a  wealthy  Canadian  farmer's  house  before  they  can  have 
any  idea  of  the  profusion  displayed  in  the  entertainment  of 
two  visitors  and  their  young  children.  Besides  venison,  pork, 
chickens,  ducks,  and  fish  of  several  kinds,  cooked  in  a  variety 
of  ways,  there  was  a  number  of  pumpkin,  raspberry,  cherry, 
and  currant  pies,  with  fresh  butter  and  green  cheese  (as  the 
new  cream-cheese  is  called),  molasses,  preserves,  and  pickled 
cucumbers,  besides  tea  and  coffee — the  latter,  be  it  known,  I 
had  watched  the  American  woman  boiling  in  the  frying-pan. 
It  was  a  black-looking  compound,  and  I  did  not  attempt  to 
discuss  its  merits.  The  vessel  in  which  it  had  been  prepared 
had  prejudiced  me,  and  rendered  me  very  skeptical  on  that 
score. 

We  were  all  very  hungry,  having  tasted  nothing  since  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  contrived,  out  of  the  variety  of 
good  things  before  us,  to  make  an  excellent  dinner. 

I  was  glad,  however,  when  we  rose  to  prosecute  our  in 
tended  trip  up  the  lake.  The  old  man,  whose  heart  was  now 
thoroughly  warmed  with  whiskey,  declared  that  he  meant  to 
make  one  of  the  party,  and  Betty,  too,  was  to  accompany  us ; 
her  sister  Norah  kindly  staying  behind  to  take  care  of  the 
children.  We  followed  a  path  along  the  top  of  the  high  ridge 
of  limestone  rock,  until  we  had  passed  the  falls  and  the  rapids 

above,  when  we  found  Pat  and  Mat  Y waiting  for  us  on 

the,  shore  below,  in  two  beautiful  new  birch-bark  canoes, 
which  they  had  purchased  the  day  before  from  the  Indians. 

Miss  Betty,  Mat,  and  myself,  were  safely  stowed  into  one, 
while  the  old  miller,  and  his  son  Pat,  and  rny  husband,  em 
barked  in  the  other,  and  our  steersmen  pushed  off  into  the 
middle  of  the  deep  and  silent  stream ;  the  shadow  of  the  tall 


A   TRIP  TO  STONY  LAKE.  79 

woods,  towering  so  many  feet  above  us,  casting  an  inky  hue 
upon  the  waters.  The  scene  was  very  imposing,  and  after 
paddling  for  a  few  minutes  in  shade  and  silence,  we  suddenly 
emerged  into  light  and  sunshine,  and  Clear  Lake,  which  gets 
its  name  from  the  unrivalled  brightness  of  its  waters,  spread 
out  its  azure  mirror  before  us.  The  Indians  regard  this  sheet 
of  water  with  peculiar  reverence.  It  abounds  in  the  finest 
sorts  of  fish,  the  salmon-trout,  the  delicious  white  fish,  muske- 
nonge,  and  black  and  white  bass.  There  is  no  island  in  this 
lake,  no  rice  beds,  nor  stick  nor  stone,  to  break  its  tranquil 
beauty,  and,  at  the  time  we  visited  it,  there  was  but  one 
clearing  upon  its  shores. 

The  log  hut  of  the  squatter  P ,  commanding  a  beauti 
ful  prospect  up  and  down  the  lake,  stood  upon  a  bold  slope 
fronting  the  water ;  all  the  rest  was  unbroken  forest.  We 
had  proceeded  about  a  mile  on  our  pleasant  voyage,  when  our 
attention  was  attracted  by  a  singular  natural  phenomenon, 

which  Mat  Y called  the  battery.  On  the  right-hand  side 

of  the  shore  rose  a  steep,  perpendicular  wall  of  limestone,  that 
had  the  appearance  of  having  been  laid  by  the  hand  of  man, 
so  smooth  and  even  was  its  surface.  After  attaining  a  height 
of  about  fifty  feet,  a  natural  platform  of  eight  or  ten  yards 
broke  the  perpendicular  line  of  the  rock,  when  another  wall, 
like  the  first,  rose  to  a  considerable  freight,  terminating  in  a 
second  and  third  platform  of  the  same  description. 

Fire,  at  some  distant  period,  had  run  over  these  singularly 
beautiful  terraces,  and  a  second  growth  of  poplars  and  balm- 
of-gileads  relieved,  by  their  tender  green  and  light,  airy, 
foilage,  the  sombre  indigo  tint  of  the  heavy  pines  that  nodded 
like  the  plumes  of  a  funeral-hearse  over  the  fair  young  dwell- 
ers  on  the  rock.  The  water  is  forty  feet  deep  at  the  base  of 
this  precipice,  which  is  washed  by  the  waves.  After  we  had 
the  battery,  Mat  Y turned  to  me  and  said,  "  That 


80  KOUGHIXG  IT  IX  THE  BUSH. 

is  a  famous  place  for  bears ;  many  a  bear  have  I  shot  among 
those  rocks." 

This  led  to  a  long  discussion  on  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
country. 

"  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  much  danger  to  be  appre 
hended  from  them,"  said  he  ;  "  but  I  once  had  an  ugly  adven 
ture  with  a  wolf  two  winters  ago,  on  this  lake." 

I  was  all  curiosity  to  hear  the  story,  which  sounded  doubly 
interesting  told  on  the  very  spot,  and  while  gliding  over  those 
lovely  waters. 

"  We  were  lumbering  at  the  head  of  Stony  Lake,  about 
eight  miles  from  here,  my  four  brothers,  myself,  and  several 
other  hands.  The  winter  was  long  and  severe ;  although  it 
was  the  first  week  in  March,  there  was  not  the  least  appear 
ance  of  a  thaw,  and  the  ice  on  these  lakes  was  as  firm  as 
ever.  I  had  been  sent  home  to  fetch  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  draw 
the  saw-logs  down  to  the  water,  our  chopping  being  all  com 
pleted,  and  the  logs  ready  for  rafting. 

"  I  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  encumber  myself  with  my 
rifle,  and  was,  therefore,  provided  with  no  weapon  of  defence 
but  the  long  gad  I  used  to  urge  on  the  cattle.  It  was  about 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  I  rounded  Sandy  Point, 
that  long  point  which  is  about  a  mile  ahead  of  us  on  the  left 
shore,  when  I  first  discovered  that  I  was  followed,  but  at  a 
great  distance,  by  a  large  wolf.  At  first,  I  thought  little  of 
the  circumstance,  beyond  a  passing  wish  that  I  had  brought 
my  gun.  I  knew  that  he  would  not  attack  me  before  dark, 
and  it  was  still  two  long  hours  to  sundown ;  so  I  whistled, 
and  urged  on  my  oxen,  and  soon  forgot  the  wolf — when,  on 
stopping  to  repair  a  little  damage  to  the  peg  of  the  yoke,  I 
was  surprised  to  find  him  close  at  my  heels.  I  turned,  and 
ran  towards  him,  shouting  as  loud  as  I  could,  when  he  slunk 
back,  but  showed  no  inclination  to  make  off.  Knowing  that 


A   TRIP  TO  STONY  LAKE.  81 

he  must  have  companions  near,  by  his  boldness,  I  shouted  as 
loud  as  I  could,  hoping  that  my  cries  might  be  heard  by  my 
brothers,  who  would  imagine  that  the  oxen  had  got  into  the 
ice,  and  would  come  to  my  assistance.  I  was  now  winding 
my  way  through  the  islands  in  Stony  Lake ;  the  sun  was 
setting  red  before  me,  and  I  had  still  three  miles  of  my  jour 
ney  to  accomplish.  The  wolf  had  become  so  impudent  that 
I  kept  him  off  by  pelting  him  with  snowballs  ;  and  once  he 
came  so  near  that  I  struck  him  with  the  gad.  I  now  began  to 
be  seriously  alarmed,  and  from  time  to  time  shouted  with  all 
my  strength  ;  and  you  may  imagine  my  joy  when  these  cries 
were  answered  by  the  report  of  a  gun.  My  brothers  had 
heard  me,  and  the  discharge  of  a  gun,  for  a  moment,  seemed 
to  daunt  the  wolf.  He  uttered  a  long  howl,  which  was 
answered  by  the  cries  of  a  large  pack  of  the  dirty  brutes 
'from  the  wood.  It  was  only  just  light  enough  to  distinguish 
objects,  and  I  had  to  stop  and  face  my  enemy,  to  keep  him  at 
bay. 

"  I  saw  the  skeleton  forms  of  half-a-dozen  more  of  them 
slinking  among  the  bushes  that  skirted  a  low  island ;  and  tired 
and  cold,  I  gave  myself  and  the  oxen  up  for  lost,  when  I  felt 
the  ice  tremble  on  which  I  stood,  and  heard  men  running  at  a 
distance.  *  Fire  your  guns  !'  I  cried  out,  as  loud  as  I  could. 
My  order  was  obeyed,  and  such  a  yelling  and  howling  imme 
diately  filled  the  whole  forest  as  would  have  chilled  your  very 
heart.  The  thievish  varmints  instantly  fled  away  into  the 
bush. 

"  I  never  felt  the  least  fear  of  wolves  until  that  night ;  but 
when  they  meet  in  large  bands,  like  cowardly  dogs,  they  trust 
to  their  numbers,  and  grow  fierce.  If  you  meet  with  one 
wolf,  you  may  be  certain  that  the  whole  pack  are  at  no  great 
distance." 

We  were  fast  approaching  Sandy  Point,  a  long  white  ridge 
VOL.  n.  4* 


82  ROUGHING  IT  IN  TffE 

of  sand,  running  half  across  the  lake,  and  though  only  covered 
with  scattered  groups  of  scrubby  trees  and  brush,  it  effect 
ually  screened  Stony  Lake  from  our  view.  There  were  so 
many  beautiful  flowers  peeping  through  the  dwarf,  green 
bushes,  that,  wishing  to  inspect  them  nearer,  Mat  kindly  ran 
the  canoe  ashore,  and  told  me  that  he  would  show  me  a  pretty 
spot,  where  an  Indian,  who  had  been  drowned  during  a  storm 
off  that  point,  was  buried.  I  immediately  recalled  the  story 
of  Susan  Moore's  father,  but  Mat  thought  that  he  was  interred 
upon  one  of  the  islands  farther  up. 

"  It  is  strange,"  he  said,  "  that  they  are  such  bad  swimmers. 
The  Indian,  though  unrivalled  by  us  whites  in  the  use  of  the 
paddle,  is  an  animal  that  does  not  take  readily  to  the  water, 
and  those  among  them  who  can  swim  seldom  use  it  as  a 
recreation." 

Pushing  our  way  through  the  bushes,  we  came  to  a  small 
opening  in  the  underwood,  so  thickly  grown  over  with  wild 
Canadian  roses  in  full  blossom,  that  the  air  was  impregnated 
with  a  delightful  odour.  In  the  centre  of  this  bed  of  sweets 
rose  the  humble  mound  that  protected  the  bones  of  the  red 
man  from  the  ravenous  jaws  of  the  wolf  and  the  wild-cat. 
It  was  completely  covered  with  stones,  and  from  among 
the  crevices  had  sprung  a  tuft  of  blue  harebells,  waving 
as  wild  and  free  as  if  they  grew  among  the  bonny  red  hea 
ther  on  the  glorious  hills  of  the  North,  or  shook  their  tiny 
bells  to  the  breeze  on  the  broom-encircled  commons  of 
England. 

The  harebell  had  always  from  a  child  been  with  me  a  fa 
vourite  flower ;  and  the  first  sight  of  it  in  Canada,  growing 
upon  that  lonely  grave,  so  flooded  my  soul  with  remembrances 
of  the  past,  that,  in  spite  of  myself,  the  tears  poured  freely 
from  my  eyes.  There  are  moments  when  it  is  impossible  to 
repress  those  outgushings  of  the  heart — 


A   TRIP  TO  STONY  LAKE.  88 

"Those  flood-gates  of  the  soul  that  sever, 
In  passion's  tide,  to  part  for  ever." 

If  Mat  and  his  sister  wondered  at  my  tears,  they  must  have 
suspected  the  cause,  for  they  walked  to  a  little  distance,  and 
left  me  to  the  indulgence  of  my  feelings.  I  gathered  those 
flowers,  and  placed  them  in  my  bosom,  and  kept  them  for 
many  a  day  ;  they  had  become  holy,  when  connected  with 
sacred  home  recollections,  and  the  never-dying  affections  of 
the  heart  which  the  sight  of  them  recalled. 

A  shout  from  our  companions  in  the  other  canoe  made  us 
retrace  our  steps  to  the  shore.  They  had  already  rounded 
the  point,  and  were  wondering  at  our  absence.  Oh,  what  a 
magnificent  scene  of  wild  and  lonely  grandeur  burst  upon  us 
as  we  swept  round  the  little  peninsula,  and  the  whole  majesty 
of  Stony  Lake  broke  upon  us  at  once ;  another  Lake  of  the 
Thousand  Isles,  in  miniature,  and  in  the  heart  of  the  wilder 
ness  !  Imagine  a  large  sheet  of  water,  some  fifteen  miles  in 
breadth  and  twenty-five  in  length,  taken  up  by  islands  of 
every  size  and  shape,  from  the  lofty  naked  rock  of  red  granite 
to  the  rounded  hill,  covered  with  oak-leaves  to  its  summit ; 
while  others  were  level  with  the  waters,  and  t>f  a  rich  emerald 
green,  only  fringed  with  a  growth  of  aquatic  shrubs  and 
flowers.  Never  did  my  eyes  rest  on  a  more  lovely  or  beau 
tiful  scene.  Not  a  vestige  of  man,  or  of  his  works,  was  there. 
The  setting  sun,  that  cast  such  a  gorgeous  flood  of  light  upon 
this  exquisite  panorama,  bringing  out  some  of  these  lofty 
islands  in  strong  relief,  and  casting  others  into  intense  shade, 
shed  no  cheery  beam  upon  church  spire  or  cottage  pane. 
We  beheld  the  landscape,  savage  and  grand  in  its  primeval 
beauty. 

As  we  floated  among  the  channels  between  these  rocky 
picturesque  isles,  I  asked  Mat  how  many  of  them  there  were. 

"  I  never  could  succeed,"  he  said,  "  in  counting  them  all. 


84  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSS. 

One  Sunday,  Pat  and  I  spent  a  whole  day  in  going  from  one 
to  the  other,  to  try  and  make  out  how  many  there  were,  but 
we  could  only  count  up  to  one  hundred  and  forty  before  we 
gave  up  the  task  in  despair.  There  are  a  great  many  of 
them ;  more  than  any  one  would  think — and,  what  is  very 
singular,  the  channel  between  them  is  very  deep,  sometimes 
above  forty  feet,  which  accounts  for  the  few  rapids  to  be  found 
in  this  lake.  It  is  a  glorious  place  for  hunting  ;  and  the  wa 
ters,  undisturbed  by  steamboats,  abound  in  all  sorts  of  fish. 

"  Most  of  these  islands  are  covered  with  huckleberries  ; 
while  grapes,  high  and  low-bush  cranberries,  blackberries, 
wild  cherries,  gooseberries,  and  several  sorts  of  wild  currants 
grow  here  in  profusion.  There  is  one  island  among  these 
groups  (but  I  never  could  light  upon  the  identical  one)  where 
the  Indians  yearly  gather  their  wampum-grass.  They  come 
here  to  collect  the  best  birch-bark  for  their  canoes,  and  to 
gather  wild  onions.  In  short,  from  the  game,  fish,  and  fruit, 
which  they  collect  among  the  islands  of  this  lake,  they  chiefly 
depend  for  their  subsistence.  They  are  very  jealous  of  the 
settlers  in  the  country  coming  to  hunt  and  fish  here,  and  tell 
many  stories  of  wild  beasts  and  rattlesnakes  that  abound 
along  its  shores ;  but  I,  who  have  frequented  the  lake  for  years, 
was  never  disturbed  by  any  thing,  beyond  the  adventure  with 
the  wolf,  which  I  have  already  told  you.  The  banks  of  this 
lake  are  all  steep  and  rocky,  and  the  land  along  the  shore  is 
barren,  and  totally  unfit  for  cultivation. 

"  Had  we  time  to  run  up  a  few  miles  further,  I  could  have 
showed  you  some  places  well  worth  a  journey  to  look  at ;  but 
the  sun  is  already  down,  and  it  will  be  dark  before  we  get 
back  to  the  mill." 

The  other  canoe  now  floated  alongside,  and  Pat  agreed 
with  his  brother  that  it  was  high  time  to  return.  With  re 
luctance  I  turned  from  this  strangely  fascinating  scene.  As 


A  TRIP  TO  STONY  LAKE.  85 

we  passed  under  one  bold  rocky  island,  Mat  said,  laughingly, 
"  That  is  Mount  Rascal." 

"  How  did  it  obtain  that  name  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  were  out  here  berrying,  with  our  good  priest, 

Mr.  B .  This  island  promised  so  fair,  that  we  landed 

upon  it,  and,  after  searching  for  an  hour,  we  returned  to  the 

boat  withoui  a  single  berry,  upon  which  Mr.  B named  it 

'Mount  Rascal.'" 

The  island  was  so  beautiful,  it  did  not  deserve  the  name, 
and  I  christened  it  "  Oak  Hill,"  from  the  abundance  of  oak- 
trees  which  clothed  its  steep  sides.  The  wood  of  this  oak  is 
so  heavy  and  hard  that  it  will  not  float  in  the  water,  and  it  is 
in  great  request  for  the  runners  of  lumber-sleighs,  which  have 
to  pass  over  very  bad  roads. 

The  breeze,  which  had  rendered  our  sail  up  the  lakes  so 
expeditious  and  refreshing,  had  stiffened  into  a  pretty  high 
wind,  which  was  dead  against  us  all  the  way  down.  Betty 
now  knelt  in  the  bow  and  assisted  her  brother,  squaw  fashion, 
in  paddling  the  canoe ;  but,  in  spite  of  all  their  united  exer 
tions,  it  was  past  ten  o'clock  before  we  reached  the  mill. 
The  good  Norah  was  waiting  tea  for  us.  She  had  given  the 
children  their  supper  four  hours  ago,  and  the  little  creatures, 
tired  with  using  their  feet  all  day,  were  sound  asleep  upon 
her  bed. 

After  supper,  several  Irish  songs  were  sung,  while  Pat 
played  upon  the  fiddle,  and  Betty  and  Mat  enlivened  the 
company  with  an  Irish  jig. 

It  was  midnight  when  the  children  were  placed  on  my 
cloak  at  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  and  we  bade  adieu  to  this 
hospitable  family.  The  wind  being  dead  against  us,  we  were 
obliged  to  dispense  with  the  sail,  and  take  to  our  paddles. 
The  moonlight  was  as  bright  as  day,  the  air  warm  and  balmy ; 
and  the  aromatic,  resinous  smell  exuded  by  the  heat  from  the 


86  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSS. 

balm-of-gilead  and  the  pine-trees  in  the  forest,  added  greatly 
to  our  sense  of  enjoyment  as  we  floated  past  scenes  so  wild 
and  lonely — isles  that  assumed  a  mysterious  look  and  charac 
ter  in  that  witching  hour.  In  moments  like  these,  I  ceased  to 
regret  my  separation  from  my  native  land ;  and,  filled  with 
the  love  of  Nature,  my  heart  forgot  for  the  time  the  love  of 
home.  The  very  spirit  of  peace  seemed  to  brood  over  the 
waters,  which  were  broken  into  a  thousand  ripples  of  light  by 
every  breeze  that  stirred  the  rice  blossoms,  or  whispered 
through  the  shivering  aspen-trees.  The  far-off  roar  of  the 
rapids,  softened  by  distance,  and  the  long,  mournful  cry  of 
the  night-owl,  alone  broke  the  silence  of  the  night.  Amid 
these  lonely  wilds  the  soul  draws  nearer  to  God,  and  is  filled 
to  overflowing  by  the  overwhelming  sense  of  His  presence. 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  we  fastened  the 
canoe  to  the  landing,  and  Moodie  carried  up  the  children  to 
the  house.  I  found  the  girl  still  up  with  my  boy,  who  had 
been  very  restless  during  our  absence.  My  heart  reproached 
me,  as  I  caught  him  to  my  breast,  for  leaving  him  so. long; 
in  a  few  minutes  he  was  consoled  for  past  sorrows,  and  sleep- 
ing  sweetly  in  my  arms. 


DISAPPOINTED  HOPES. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

DISAPPOINTED      HOPES. 

rjIHE  summer  of  '35  was  very  wet ;  a  circumstance  so  un- 
-*-  usual  in  Canada  that  I  have  seen  no  season  like  it  during 
my  sojourn  in  the  country.  Our  wheat  crop  promised  to  be 
both  excellent  and  abundant;  and  the  clearing  and  seeding 
sixteen  acres,  one  way  or  another,  had  cost  us  more  than  fifty 
pounds ;  still,  we  hoped  to  realize  something  handsome  by  the 
sale  of  the  produce ;  and,  as  far  as  appearances  went,  all 
looked  fair.  The  rain  commenced  about  a  week  before  the 
crop  was  fit  for  the  sickle,  and  from  that  time  until  nearly  the 
end  of  September  was  a  mere  succession  of  thunder  showers ; 
days  of  intense  heat,  succeeded  by  floods  of  rain.  Our  fine 
crop  shared  the  fate  of  all  other  fine  crops  in  the  country ;  it 
was  totally  spoiled ;  the  wheat  grew  in  the  sheaf,  and  we  could 
scarcely  save  enough  to  supply  us  with  bad,  sticky  bread ;  the 
rest  was  exchanged  at  the  distillery  for  whiskey,  which  was 
the  only  produce  which  could  be  obtained  for  it.  The  store 
keepers  would  not  look  at  it,  or  give  either  money  or  goods 
for  such  a  damaged  article. 

My  husband  and  I  had  worked  hard  in  the  field ;  it  was 
the  first  time  I  had  ever  tried  my  hand  at  field-labour,  but  our 
ready  money  was  exhausted,  and  the  steamboat  stock  had  not 
paid  us  one  farthing ;  we  could  not  hire,  and  there  was  no  help 
for  it.  I  had  a  hard  struggle  with  my  pride  before  I  would 
consent  to  render  the  least  assistance  on  the  farm,  but  reflec- 


8<*  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSS. 

tion  convinced  me  that  I  was  wrong — that  Providence  had 
placed  me  in  a  situation  where  I  was  called  upon  to  work — 
that  it  was  not  only  my  duty  to  obey  that  call,  but  to  exert 
myself  to  the  utmost  to  assist  my  husband,  and  help  to  main 
tain  my  family. 

Ah,  glorious  poverty !  thou  art  a  hard  taskmaster,  but  in 
thy  soul-ennobling  school,  I  have  received  more  god-like  les 
sons,  have  learned  more  sublime  truths,  than  ever  I  acquired 
in  the  smooth  highways  of  the  world  !  The  independent  in 
soul  can  rise  above  the  seeming  disgrace  of  poverty,  and  hold 
fast  their  integrity,  in  defiance  of  the  world  and  its  selfish  and 
unwise  maxims.  To  them,  no  labour  is  too  great,  no  trial  too 
severe ;  they  will  unflinchingly  exert  every  faculty  of  mind 
and  body,  before  they  will  submit  to  become  a  burden  to 
others. 

The  misfortunes  that  now  crowded  upon  us  were  the  result 
of  no  misconduct  or  extravagance  on  our  part,  but  arose  out 
of  circumstances  which  we  could  not  avert  nor  control.  Find 
ing  too  late  the  error  into  which  we  had  fallen,  in  suffering 
ourselves  to  be  cajoled  and  plundered  out  of  our  property  by 
interested  speculators,  we  braced  our  minds  to  bear  the  worst, 
and  determined  to  meet  our  difficulties  calmly  and  firmly,  nor 
suffer  our  spirits  to  sink  under  calamities  which  energy  and 
industry  might  eventually  repair.  Having  once  come  to  this 
resolution,  we  cheerfully  shared  together  the  labours  of  the 
field.  One  in  heart  and  purpose,  we  dared  remain  true  to 
ourselves,  true  to  our  high  destiny  as  immortal  creatures,  in 
our  conflict  with  temporal  and  physical  wants.  We  found 
that  manual  toil,  however  distasteful  to  those  unaccustomed  to 
it,  was  not  after  all  such  a  dreadful  hardship;  that  the  wflder- 
ness  was  not  without  its  rose,  the  hard  face  of  poverty  without 
its  smile.  If  we  occasionally  suffered  severe  pain,  we  as  often 
experienced  great  pleasure,  and  I  have  contemplated  a  well*. 


DISAPPOINTED  HOPES.  89 

hoed  ridge  of  potatoes  on  that  bush  farm,  with  as  much  de 
light  as  in  years  long  past  I  had  experienced  in  examining  a 
fine  painting  in  some  well-appointed  drawing-room. 

I  can  now  look  back  with  calm  thankfulness  on  that  long 
period  of  trial  and  exertion — with  thankfulness  that  the  dark 
clouds  that  hung  over  us,  threatening  to  blot  us  from  existence, 
when  they  did  burst  upon  us,  were  full  of  blessings.  When 
our  situation  appeared  perfectly  desperate,  then  were  we  on 
the  threshold  of  a  new  state  of  things,  which  was  born  out  of 
that  very  distress. 

In  order  more  fully  to  illustrate  the  necessity  of  a  perfect 
and  childlike  reliance  upon  the  mercies  of  God — who,  I  most 
firmly  believe,  never  deserts  those  who  have  placed  their  trust 
in  Him — I  will  give  a  brief  sketch  of  our  lives  during  the 
years  1836  and  1837. 

Still  confidently  expecting  to  realize  an  income,  however 
small,  from  the  steamboat  stock,  we  had  involved  ourselves 
considerably  in  debt,  in  order  to  pay  our  servants  and  obtain 
the  common  necessaries  of  life  ;  and  we  owed  a  large  sum  to 
two  Englishmen  in  Dummer,  for  clearing  ten  more  acres  upon 
the  farm.  Our  utter  inability  to  meet  these  demands  weighed 
very  heavily  upon  my  husband's  mind.  All  superfluities  in 
the  way  of  groceries  were  now  given  up,  and  we  were  com 
pelled  to  rest  satisfied  upon  the  produce  of  the  farm.  Milk, 
bread,  and  potatoes,  during  the  summer  became  our  chief,  and 
often,  for  months,  our  only  fare.  As  to  tea  and  sugar,  they 
were  luxuries  we  would  not  think  of,  although  I  missed  the 
tea  very  much ;  we  rang  the  changes  upon  peppermint  and 
sage,  taking  the  one  herb  at  our  breakfast,  the  other  at  our 
tea,  until  I  found  an  excellent  substitute  for  both  in  the  root 
of  the  dandelion. 

The  first  year  we  came  to  this  country,  I  met  with  an  ac 
count  of  dandelion  coffee,  published  in  the  New  York  Albion, 


90  ROUGHING-  IT  W  THE  BUSH. 

given  by  a  Dr.  Harrison,  of  Edinburgh,  who  earnestly  recom 
mended  it  as  an  article  of  general  use. 

"  It  possesses,"  he  says,  "  all  the  fine  flavour  and  exhila 
rating  properties  of  coffee,  without  any  of  its  deleterious 
effects.  The  plant  being  of  a  soporific  nature,  the  coffee  made 
from  it  when  drank  at  night  produces  a  tendency  to  sleep, 
instead  of  exciting  wakefulness,  and  may  be  safely  used  as  a 
cheap  and  wholesome  substitute  for  the  Arabian  berry,  being 
equal  in  substance  and  flavour  to  the  best  Mocha  coffee." 

I  was  much  struck  with  this  paragraph  at  the  time,  and  for 
several  years  felt  a  great  inclination  to  try  the  Doctor's  coffee ; 
but  something  or  other  always  came  in  the  way,  and  it  was 
put  off  till  another  opportunity.  During  the  fall  of '35, 1  was 
assisting  my  husband  in  taking  up  a  crop  of  potatoes  in  the 
field,  and  observing  a  vast  number  of  fine  dandelion  roots 
among  the  potatoes,  it  brought  the  dandelion  coffee  back  to 
my  memory,  and  I  determined  to  try  some  for  our  supper. 
"Without  saying  anything  to  my  husband,  I  threw  aside  some 
of  the  roots,  and  when  we  left  work,  collecting  a  sufficient 
quantity  for  the  experiment,  I  carefully  washed  the  roots  quite 
clean,  without  depriving  them  of  the  fine  brown  skin  which 
covers  them,  and  which  contains  the  aromatic  flavour,  which 
so  nearly  resembles  coffee  that  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  it 
from  it  while  roasting.  I  cut  my  roots  into  small  pieces,  the 
size  of  a  kidney-bean,  and  roasted  them  on  an  iron  baking-pan 
in  the  stove-oven,  until  they  were  as  brown  and  crisp  as  coffee. 
I  then  ground  and  transferred  a  small  cupful  of  the  powder  to 
the  coffee-pot,  pouring  upon  it  scalding  water,  and  boiling  it 
for  a  few  minutes  briskly  over  the  fire.  The  result  was 
beyond  my  expectations.  The  coffee  proved  excellent — far 
superior  to  the  common  coffee  we  procured  at  the  stores. 

To  persons  residing  in  the  bush,  and  to  whom  tea  and 
coffee  are  very  expensive  articles  of  luxury,  the  knowledge  of 


DISAPPOINTED  HOPES.  91 

this  valuable  property  in  a  plant,  scattered  so  abundantly 
through  their  fields,  would  prove  highly  beneficial.  For 
years  we  used  no  other  article ;  and  my  Indian  friends  who 
frequented  the  house  gladly  adopted  the  root,  and  made  me 
show  them  the  whole  process  of  manufacturing  it  into  coffee. 

Experience  taught  me  that  the  root  of  the  dandelion  is 
not  so  good,  when  applied  to  this  purpose,  in  the  spring  as  ifc 
is  in  the  fall.  I  tried  it  in  the  spring,  but  the  juice  of  the 
plant,  having  contributed  to  the  production  of  leaves  and 
flowers,  was  weak,  and  destitute  of  the  fine  bitter  flavour  so 
peculiar  to  coffee.  The  time  of  gathering  in  the  potato  crop 
is  the  best  suited  for  collecting  and  drying  the  roots  of  the 
dandelion ;  and  as  they  always  abound  in  the  same  hills,  both 
may  be  accomplished  at  the  same  time.  Those  who  want  to 
keep  a  quantity  for  winter  use  may  wash  and  cut  up  the  roots, 
and  dry  them  on  boards  in  the  sun.  They  will  keep  for  years, 
and  can  be  roasted  when  required. 

Few  of  our  colonists  are  acquainted  with  the  many  uses  to 
which  this  neglected  but  most  valuable  plant  may  be  applied. 
I  will  point  out  a  few  which  have  come  under  my  own  obser 
vation,  convinced  as  I  am  that  the  time  will  come  when  this 
hardy  weed,  with  its  golden  flowers  and  curious  seed-vessels, 
which  form  a  constant  plaything  to  the  little  children  rolling 
about  and  luxuriating  among  the  grass,  in  the  sunny  month  of 
May,  will  be  transplanted  into  our  gardens,  and  tended  with 
due  care.  The  dandelion  planted  in  trenches,  and  blanched 
to  a  beautiful  cream-colour  with  straw,  makes  an  excellent 
salad,  quite  equal  to  endive,  and  is  more  hardy  and  requires 
less  care. 

In  many  parts  of  the  United  States,  particularly  in  new 
districts  where  vegetables  are  scarce,  it  is  used  early  in  the 
spring,  and  boiled  with  pork  as  a  substitute  for  cabbage. 
During  our  residence  in  the  bush  we  found  it,  in  the  early 


92  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

part  of  May,  a  great  addition  to  the  dinner-table.  In  the 
township  of  Dummer,  the  settlers  boil  the  tops,  and  add  hops 
to  the  liquor,  which  they  ferment,  and  from  which  they  obtain 
excellent  beer.  I  have  never  tasted  this  simple  beverage,  but 
I  have  been  told  by  those  who  use  it  that  it  is  equal  to  the 
table-beer  used  at  home. 

Necessity  has  truly  been  termed  the  mother  of  invention, 
for  I  contrived  to  manufacture  a  variety  of  dishes  almost 
out  of  nothing,  while  living  in  her  school.  When  entirely 
destitute  of  animal  fooji,  the  different  variety  of  squirrels  sup 
plied  us  with  pies,  stews,  and  roasts.  Our  barn  stood  at  the 
top  of  the  hill  near  the  bush,  and  in  a  trap  set  for  such  "  small 
deer,"  we  often  caught  from  ten  to  twelve  a-day. 

The  flesh  of  the  black  squirrel  is  equal  to  that  of  the  rabbit, 
and  the  red,  and  even  the  little  chissmunk,  is  palatable  when 
nicely  cooked.  But  from  the  lake,  during  the  summer,  we 
derived  the  larger  portion  of  our  food.  The  children  called 
this  piece  of  water  "  Mamma's  pantry,"  and  many  a  good 
meal  has  the  munificent  Father  given  to  his  poor  dependent 
children  from  its  well-stored  depths.  Moodie  and  I  used  to 
rise  by  daybreak,  and  fish  for  an  hour  after  sunrise,  when  we 
returned,  he  to  the  field,  and  I  to  dress  the  little  ones,  clean 
up  the  house,  assist  with  the  milk,  and  prepare  the  breakfast. 

Oh,  how  I  enjoyed  these  excursions  on  the  lake  !  The  very 
idea  of  our  dinner  depending  upon  our  success,  added  doable 
zest  to  our  sport. 

One  morning  we  started  as  usual  before  sunrise ;  a  thick 
mist  still  hung  like  a  fine  veil  upon  the  water  when  we  pushed 
off,  and  anchored  at  our  accustomed  place.  Just  as  the  sun. 
rose,  and  the  haze  parted  and  drew  up  like  a  golden  sheet  of 
transparent  gauze,  through  which  the  dark  woods  loomed  out 
like  giants,  a  noble  buck  dashed  into  the  water,  followed  by 
four  Indian  hounds. 


DISAPPOINTED  HOPES.  93 

We  then  discovered  a  canoe,  full  of  Indians,  just  "below  the 
rapids,  and  another  not  many  yards  from  us,  that  had  been 
concealed  by  the  fog.  It  was  a  noble  sight,  that  gallant  deer 
exerting  all  his  energy,  and  stemming  the  water  with  such 
matchless  grace,  his  branching  horns  held  proudly  aloft,  his 
broad  nostrils  distended,  and  his  fine  eye  fixed  intently  upon 
the  opposite  shore.  Several  rifle-balls  whizzed  past  him,  the 
dogs  followed  hard  upon  his  track,  but  my  very  heart  leaped 
for  joy  when,  in  spite  of  all  his  foes,  his  glossy  hoofs  spurned 
the  opposite  bank  and  he  plunged  headlong  into  the  forest. 

My  beloved  partner  was  most  skilful  in  trolling  for  bass 
and  muskinonge.  His  line  he  generally  fastened  to  the  pad 
dle,  and  the  motion  of  the  oar  gave  a  life-like  vibration  to 
the  queer-looking  mice  and  dragon-flies  I  used  to  manufacture 
from  squirrel  fur,  or  scarlet  and  white  cloth,  to  tempt  the 
finny  wanderers  of  the  wave. 

When  too  busy  himself  to  fish  for  our  meals,  little  Katie 
and  I  ventured  out  alone  in  the  canoe,  which  we  anchored  in 
any  promising  fishing  spot,  by  fastening  a  harrow  tooth  to  a 
piece  of  rope,  and  letting  it  drop  from  the  side  of  the  little 
vessel.  By  the  time  she  was  five  years  old,  my  little  mer 
maid  could  both  steer  and  paddle  the  light  vessel,  and  catch 
small  fish,  which  were  useful  for  soup. 

During  the  winter  of  '36,  we  experienced  many  privations. 

The  ruffian  squatter  P ,  from  Clear  Lake,  drove  from  the 

barn  a  fine  young  bull  we  were  rearing,  and  for  several  weeks 
all  trace  of  the  animal  was  lost.  We  had  almost  forgotten 
the  existence  of  poor  Whiskey,  when  a  neighbour  called  and 
told  Moodie  that  his  yearling  was  at  P — — 's,  and  that  he 
would  advise  him  to  get  it  back  as  soon  as  possible.  Moodie 

had  to  take  some  wrheat  to  Y 's  mill,  and  as  the  squatter 

lived  only  a  mUe  further,  he  caHed  at  his  house ;  and  there, 
sure  enough,  he  found  the  lost  animal.  With  the  greatest 


94  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

difficulty  he  succeeded  in  regaining  his  property,  but  not  with 
out  many  threats -of  vengeance  from  the  parties  who  had 
stolen  it.  To  these  he  paid  no  regard  ;  but  a  few  days  after, 
six  fat  hogs,  on  which  we  depended  for  all  our  winter  store 
of  animal  food,  were  driven  into  the  lake,  and  destroyed.  The 
death  of  these  animals  deprived  us  of  three  barrels  of  pork, 
and  half  starved  us  through  the  winter.  That  winter  of  '36, 
how  heavily  it  wore  away  !  The  grown  flour,  frosted  pota 
toes,  and  scant  quantity  of  animal  food  rendered  us  all  weak, 
and  the  children  suffered  much  from  the  ague. 

One  day,  just  before  the  snow  fell,  Moodie  had  gone  to 
Peterborough  for  letters ;  our  servant  was  sick  in  bed  with 
the  ague,  and  I  was  nursing  my  little  boy,  Dunbar,  who  was 
shaking  with  the  cold  fit  of  his  miserable  fever,  when  Jacob 
put  his  honest,  round,  rosy  face  in  at  the  door. 

"  Give  me  the  master's  gun,  ma'am ;  there's  a  big  buck 
feeding  on  the  rice-bed  near  the  island." 

I  took  down  the  gun,  saying,  "  Jacob,  you  have  no  chance ; 
there  is  but  one  charge  of  buck-shot  in  the  house." 

"  One  chance  is  better  nor  none,"  said  Jacob,  as  he  com 
menced  loading  the  gun.  "  Who  knows  what  may  happen  to 
oie.  Mayhap  oie  may  chance  to  kill  'un ;  and  you  and  the 
measter  and  the  wee  bairns  may  have  zuminut  zavory  for 
zupper  yet." 

Away  walked  Jacob  with  Moodie's  "Manton"  over  his 
shoulder.  A  few  minutes  after,  I  heard  the  report  of  the 
gun,  but  never  expected  to  see  anything  of  the  game ;  when 
Jacob  suddenly  bounced  into  the  room,  half  wild  with  delight. 

"  Thae  beast  iz  dead  az  a  door-nail.  Zure,  how  the  meas 
ter  will  laugh  when  he  zees  the  fine  buck  that  oie  a»'  zhot." 

"  And  have  you  really  shot  him  ?" 

"  Come  and  zee%  'Tis  ^orth  your  while  to  walk  down  to 
the  landing  to  look  at  'un." 


DISAPPOINTED  HOPES.  95 

Jacob  got  a  rope,  and  I  followed  him  to  the  landing,  where, 
sure  enough,  lay  a  fine  buck,  fastened  in  tpw  of  the  canoe. 
Jacob  soon  secured  him  by  the  hind  legs  to  the  rope  he  had 
brought ;  and,  with  our  united  efforts,  we  at  last  succeeded  in 
dragging  our  prize  home.  All  the  time  he  was  engaged  in 
taking  off  the  skin,  Jacob  was  anticipating  the  feast  that  we 
were  to  have ;  and  the  good  fellow  chuckled  with  delight 
when  he  hung  the  carcass  quite  close  to  the  kitchen  door,  that 
his  "  measter"  might  run  against  it  when  he  came  home  at 
night.  This  event  actually  took  place.  When  Moodie 
opened  the  door,  he  struck  his  head  against  the  dead  deer. 

"  What  have  you  got  here  1" 

"  A  fine  buck,  zur,"  said  Jacob,  bringing  forward  the  light, 
and  holding  it  up  in  such  a  manner  that  all  the  merits  of  the 
prize  could  be  seen  at  a  glance. 

"  A  fine  one,  indeed  !     How  did  we  come  by  it  ?" 

"  It  was  zhot  by  oie,"  said  Jacob,  rubbing  his  hands  in  a 
sort  of  ecstacy.  "  Thae  beast  iz  the  first  oie  ever  zhot  in  my 
life.  He  !  he  !  he  !" 

"  You  shot  that  fine  deer,  Jacob  1 — and  there  was  only  one 
charge  in  the  gun !  Well  done ;  you  must  have  taken  a  good 
aim." 

"  Why,  zur,  oie  took  no  aim  at  all.  Oie  just  pointed  the 
gun  at  the  deer,  and  zhut  my  oeys  an  let  fly  at  'un.  'Twaa 
Providence  kill'd  'un,  not  oie." 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  Moodie  ;  "  Providence  has  hitherto 
watched  over  us  and  kept  us  from  actual  starvation." 

The  flesh  of  the  deer,  and  the  good  broth  that  I  was  able 
to  obtain  from  it,  greatly  assisted  in  restoring  our  sick  to 
health;  but  long  before  that  severe  winter  terminated  we 

were  again  out  of  food.     Mrs. had  given  to  Katie,  in  • 

the  fall,  a  very  pretty  little  pig,  which  she  had  named  Spot. 
The  animal  was  a  great  favourite  with  Jacob  and  the  children, 


96  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSIL 

and  he  always  received  his  food  from  their  hands  at  the  door, 
and  followed  them  all  over  the  place  like  a  dog.  We  had  a 
noble  hound  called  Hector,  between  whom  and  the  pet  pig 
there  existed  the  most  tender  friendship.  Spot  always  shared 
with  Hector  the  hollow  log  which  served  him  for  a  kennel, 
and  we  often  laughed  to  see  Hector  lead  Spot  round  the 
clearing  by  his  ear.  After  bearing  the  want  of  animal  food 
until  our  souls  sickened  at  the  bad  potatoes  and  grown  flour 
bread,  we  began — that  is  the  eldest  of  the  family — to  cast 
very  hungry  eyes  upon  Spot ;  but  no  one  liked  to  propose 
having  him  killed.  At  last  Jacob  spoke  liis  mind  upon  the 
subject. 

"  Oi've  heard,  zur,  that  the  Jews  never  cat  pork  ;  but  we 
Christians  dooz,  and  are  right  glad  ov  the  chance.  Now,  zur, 
oi've  been  thinking  that  'tis  no  manner  ov  use  our  keeping 
that  beast  Spot.  If  he  wor  a  ZOWT,  now,  there  might  be  zome 
zcnze  in  the  thing ;  and  we  all  feel  weak  for  a  morzel  of  meat. 
S'poze  I  kill  him  ?  He  won't  make  a  bad  piece  of  pork." 

Moodie  seconded  the  move ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  tears  and 
prayers  of  Katie,  her  uncouth  pet  was  sacrificed  to  the  gen 
eral  wants  of  the  family  ;  but  there  were  two  members  of  the 
house  who  disdained  to  eat  a  morsel  of  the  victim ;  poor  Katie 
and  the  dog  Hector.  At  the  self-denial  of  the  first  I  did  not 
at  all  wonder,  for  she  was  a  child  full  of  sensibility  and  warm 
affections,  but  the  attachment  of  the  brute  creature  to  his  old 
playmate  filled  us  all  with  surprise.  Jacob  first  drew  our 
attention  to  the  strange  fact. 

"  That  dog,"  he  said,  as  we  were  passing  through  the 
kitchen  while  he  was  at  dinner,  "  do  teach  uz  Christians  a 
lesson  how  to  treat  our  friends.  Why,  zur,  he'll  not  eat  a 
morzel  of  Spot.  Oie  have  tried  and  tempted  him  in  all  man 
ner  ov  ways,  and  he  only  do  zneer  and  turn  up  his  nose  when 
oie  hould  him  a  bit  to  taste."  He  offered  the  animal  a  rib 


DISAPPOINTED  HOPES,'  97 

of  the  fresh  pork  as  he  finished  speaking,  and  the  dog  turned 
away  with  an  expression  of  aversion,  and  on  a  repetition  of 
the  act,  walked  from  the  .table.  Human  affection  could 
scarcely  have  surpa-ssed  the  love  felt  by  this  poor  animal  for 
his  playfellow.  His  attachment  to  Spot,  that  could  overcome 
the  pangs  of  hunger — for,  like  the  rest  of  us,  he  was  half 
starved — must  have  been  strong  indeed. 

Jacob's  attachment  to  us,  in  its  simplicity  and  fidelity, 
greatly  resembled  that  of  the  dog ;  and  sometimes,  like  the 
dog,  he  would  push  himself  in  where  he  was  not  wanted,  and 
gratuitously  give  his  advice,  and  make  remarks  which  were 
not  required, 

Mr.  K ,  from  Cork,  was  asking  Moodie  many  ques 
tions  about  the  partridges  of  the  country ;  and,  among  other 
things,  he  wanted  to  know  by  what  token  you  were  able  to 
discover  their  favourite  haunts.  Before  Moodie  could  answer 
this  last  query  a  voice  responded,  through  a  large  crack  in  the 
boarded  wall  which  separated  us  from  the  kitchen,  "  They  al 
ways  bides  where  they's  drum."  This  announcement  Mras 
received  with  a  burst  of  laughter  that  greatly  disconcerted  the 
natural  philosopher  in  the  kitchen. 

On  the  21st  of  May  of  this  year,  my  second  son,  Donald, 
was  born.  The  poor  fellow  came  in  hard  times.  The  cows 
had  not  calved,  and  our  bill  of  fare,  now  minus  the  deer  and 
Spot,  only  consisted  of  bad  potatoes  and  still  worse  bread.  I 
was  rendered  so  weak  by  want  of  proper  nourishment  that  my 
dear  husband,  for  my  sake,  overcame  his  aversion  to  borrow 
ing,  and  procured  a  quarter  of  mutton  from  a  friend.  This, 
with  kindly  presents  from  neighbours — often  as  badly  off  as 
ourselves — a  loin  of  a  young  bear,  and  a  basket,  containing  a 
loaf  of  bread,  some  tea,  some  fresh  butter,  and  oatmeal,  went 
far  to  save  my  life. 

Shortly  after  my  recovery,  Jacob — the  faithful,  good  Jacob 
ii.  5 


98  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

— was  obliged  to  leave  us,  for  we  could  no  longer  afford  to 
pay  wages.  What  was  owing  to  him  had  to  be  settled  by 
sacrificing  our  best  cow,  and  a  great  many  valuable  articles 
of  clothing  from  my  husband's  wardrobe.  Nothing  is  more 
distressing  than  being  obliged  to  part  with  articles  of  dress 
which  you  know  that  you  cannot  replace.  Almost  all  my 
clothes  had  been  appropriated  to  the  payment  of  wages,  or  to 
obtain  garments  for  the  children,  excepting  my  wedding-dress, 
and  the  beautiful  baby -linen  which  had  been  made  by  the 
hands  of  dear  and  affectionate  friends  for  my  first-born.  These 
were  now  exchanged  for  coarse,  warm  flannels,  to  shield  her 
from  the  cold.  Hoodie  and  Jacob  had  chopped  eight  acres 
during  the  winter,  but  these  had  to  be  burnt  off  and  logged- 
up  before  we  could  put  in  a  crop  of  wheat  for  the  ensuing  fall, 
Had  we  been  able  to  retain  this  industrious,  kindly  English 
lad,  this  would-  have  been  soon  accomplished ;  but  his  wages, 
at  the  rate  of  thirty  pounds  per  annum,  were  now  utterly  be 
yond  our  means. 

Jacob  had  formed  an  attachment  to  my  pretty  maid,  Mary 
Pine,  and  before  going  to  the  Southern  States,  to  join  an  uncle 
who  resided  in  Louisville,  an  opulent  tradesman,  who  had 
promised  to  teach  him  his  business,  Jacob  thought  it  as  well 
to  declare  himself.  The  declaration  took  place  on  a  log  of 
wood  near  the  back  door,  and  from  my  chamber  window  I 
could  both  hear  and  see  the  parties,  without  being  myself  ob 
served.  Mary  was  seated  very  demurely  at  one  end  of  the 
log,  twisting  the  strings  of  her  checked  apron,  and  the  loving 
Jacob1  was  busily  whittling  the  other  extremity  of  their  rustic 
scat.  There  was  a  long  silence.  Mary  stole  a  look  at  Jacob, 
and  he  heaved  a  tremendous  sigh,  something  between  a  yawn 
and  a  groan.  "  Meary,"  he  said,  "  I  must  go." 

"I  knew  that  afore,77  returned  the  girl. 

<k  I  had  zummat  to  zay  to  you,  Meary.    Do  you  think  you 


DISAPPOINTED  HOPES.  99 

'will  miss  oie  f  (looking  very  affectionately,  and  twitching 
nearer.) 

"  What  put  that  into  your  head,  Jacob  ?"  This  was  said 
very  demurely. 

"  Oie  thowt,  maybe,  Meary,  that  your  feelings  might  be 
zummat  loike  my  own.  I  feel  zore  about  the  heart,  Meary, 
and  it's  all  com'  of  parting  with  you.  Don't  you  feel  queerish, 
too  ?" 

"  Can't  say  that  I  do,  Jacob.  I  shall  soon  see  you  again," 
(pulling  violently  at  her  apron-string.) 

"  Meary,  oi'm  afeard  you  don't  feel  like  oie." 

"  PVaps  not — women  can't  feel  like  men.  I'm  sorry  that 
you  are  going,  Jacob,  for  you  have  been  very  kind  and  obli 
ging,  and  I  wish  you  well." 

"  Meary,"  cried  Jacob,  growing  desperate  at  her  coyness, 
and  getting  quite  close  up  to  her,  "  will  you  marry  oie  ?  Say 
yeez  or  noa. " 

This  was  coming  close  to  the  point.  Mary  drew  farther 
from  him,  and  turned  her  head  away. 

"  Meary,"  said  Jacob,  seizing  upon  the  hand  that  held 
the  apron-string,  "  do  you  think  you  can  better  yoursel'  ?  If 
not — why,  oie'm  your  man.  Now,  do  just  turn  about  your 
head  and  answer  oie." 

The  girl  turned  round,  and  gave  him  a  quick,  shy  glance, 
then  burst  out  into  a  simpering  laugh.  * 

"  Meary,  will  you  take  oie1?"  (jogging  her  elbow.) 

"  I  will,"  cried  the  girl,  jumping  up  from  the  log,  and  run 
ning  into  the  house. 

"  Well,  that  bargain's  made,"  said  the  lover,  rubbing  his 
hands ;  "  and  now,  oie'll  go  and  bid  measter  and  missus  good- 
buoy." 

The  poor  fellow's  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  for  the  children, 
who  loved  him  very  much,  clung,  crying,  about  his  knees. 


100  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE.  BUSK. 

"God  bless  yees  all,"  sobbed  the  kind-hearted  creature. 
"Doan't  forget  Jacob,  for  he'll  neaver  forget  you.  Good- 
buoy  !" 

Then  turning  to  Mary,  he  threw  his  arms  round  her  neck, 
and  bestowed  upon  her  fair  cheek  the  most  audible  kiss  I 
ever  heard. 

"  And  doan't  you  forget  me,  Meary.  In  two  years  oie 
will  be  back  to  marry  you ;  and  maybe  oie  may  come  back 
a  rich  man." 

Mary,  who  was  an  exceedingly  pretty  girl,  shed  some  tears 
at  the  parting ;  but  in  a  few  days  she  was  as  gay  as  ever,  and 
listening  with  great  attention  to  the  praises  oestowed  upon  her 
beauty  by  an  old  bachelor,  who  was  her  senior  by  five-and- 
twenty  years.  But  then  he  had  a  good  farm,  a  saddle  mare, 
and  plenty  of  stock,  and  was  reputed  to  have  saved  money. 
The  saddle  mare  seemed  to  have  great  weight  in  old  Ralph 

T h's  wooing ;  and  I  used  laughingly  to  remind  Mary  of 

her  absent  lover,  and  beg  her  not  to  marry  Ealph  T h's 

mare. 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  101 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE     LITTLE     STUMPY     MAN. 

"OEFORE  I  dismiss  for  ever  the  troubles  and  sorrows  of 
-D  1836,  I  would  fain  introduce  to  the  notice  of  my  readers 
some  of  the  odd  characters  with  whom  we  became  acquainted 
during  that  period.  The  first  that  starts  vividly  to  my  recol 
lection  is  the  picture  of  a  short,  stumpy,  thick-set  man — a 
British  sailor,  too — who  came  to  stay  one  night  under  our 
roof,  and  took  quiet  possession  of  his  quarters  for  nine 
months,  and  whom  we  were  obliged  to  tolerate  from  the 
simple  fact  that  we  could  not  get  rid  of  him. 

During  the  fall,  Moodie  had  met  this  individual  (whom  I 
will  call  Mr.  Malcolm)  in  the  mail-coach,  going  up  to  Toronto. 
Amused  with  his  eccentric  and  blunt  manners,  and  finding 
him  a  shrewd,  clever  fellow  in  conversation,  Moodie  told  him 
that  if  ever  he  came  into  his  part  of  the  world  he  should  be 
glad  to  renew  their  acquaintance.  And  so  they  parted,  with 
mutual  good-will,  as  men  often  part  who  have  travelled  a  long 
journey  in  good  fellowship  together,  without  thinking  it  prob 
able  they  should  ever  meet  again. 

The  sugar  season  had  just  commenced  with  the  spring 
thaw ;  Jacob  had  tapped  a  few  trees  in  order  to  obtain  sap 
to  make  molasses  for  the  children,  when  his  plans  were  frus 
trated  by  the  illness  of  my  husband,  who  was  again  attacked 
with  the  ague.  Towards  the  close  of  a  wet,  sloppy  night, 
while  Jacob  was  in  the  wood,  chopping,  and  our  servant  gone 


102  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  TEE  BUSH. 

to  my  sister,  who  was  ill,  to  help  to  wash,  as  I  was  busy- 
baking  bread  for  tea,  my  attention  was  aroused  by  a  violent 
knocking  at  the  door,  and  the  furious  barking  of  our  dog, 
Hector.  I  ran  to  open  it,  when  I  found  Hector's  teeth 
clenched  in  the  trowsers  of  a  little,  dark,  thick-set  man,  who 
said  in  a  gruff  voice, 

"  Call  off  your  dog.  What  the  devil  do  you  keep  such  an 
infernal  brute  about  the  house  for  ?  Is  it  to  bite  people  who 
come  to  see  you  ?" 

Hector  was  the  best-behaved,  best-tempered  animal  in  the 
world  ;  he  might  have  been  called  a  gentlemanly  dog.  So 
little  was  there  of  the  unmannerly  puppy  in  his  behaviour, 
that  I  was  perfectly  astonished  at  his  ungracious  conduct.  I 
caught  him  by  the  collar,  and  not  without  some  difficulty, 
succeeded  in  dragging  him  off. 

"Is  Captain  Moodie  within1?"  said  the  stranger. 

"  He  is,  sir.     But  he  is  ill  in  bed — too  ill  to  be  seen." 

"  Tell  him  a  friend,"  (he  laid  a  strong  stress  upon  the  last 
word,)  "  a  particular  friend  must  speak  to  hini." 

I  now  turned  my  eyes  to  the  face  of  the  speaker  with  some 
curiosity.  I  had  taken  him  for  a  mechanic,  from  his  dirty, 
slovenly  appearance ;  and  his  physiognomy  was  so  unpleasant 
that  I  did  not  credit  his  assertion  that  he  was  a  friend  of  my 
husband,  for  I  was  certain  that  no  man  who  possessed  such  a 
forbidding  aspect  could -be  regarded  by  Moodie  as  a  friend. 
I  was  about  to  deliver  his  message,  but  the  moment  I  let  go 
Hector's  collar,  the  dog  was  at  him  again. 

"  Don't  strike  him  with  your  stick,"  I  cried,  throwing  my 
arms  over  the  faithful  creature.  "  He  is  a  powerful  animal, 
and  if  you  provoke  him,  he  will  kill  you." 

I  at  last  succeeded  in  coaxing  Hector  into  the  girl's  room, 
where  I  shut  him  up,  while  the  stranger  came  into  the  kitchen, 
and  walked  to  the  fire  to  dry  his  wet  clothes. 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  103 

I  immediately  went  into  the  parlour,  where  Moodie  was 
lying  upon  a  bed  near  the  stove,  to  deliver  the  stranger's  mes 
sage  ;  but  before  I  could  say  a  word,  he  dashed  in  after  me, 
and  going  up  to  the  bed  held  out  his  broad,  coarse  hand,  with, 
"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Moodie.  You  see  I  have  accepted  your 
kind  invitation  sooner  than  either  you  or  I  expected.  If  you 
will  give  me  house-room  for  the  night  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
you." 

This  was  said  in  a  low,  mysterious  voice ;  and  Moodie, 
who  was  still  struggling-  with  the  hot  fit  of  his  disorder,  and 
whose  senses  were  not  a  little  confused,  stared  at  him  with  a 
look  of  vague  bewilderment.  The  countenance  of  the  stranger 
grew  dark. 

"  You  cannot  have  forgotten  me — my  name  is  Malcolm." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  I  remember  you  now,"  said  the  invalid,  holding 
out  his  burning,  feverish  hand.  To  my  home,  such  as  it  is, 
you  are  welcome." 

I  stood  by  in  wondering  astonishment,  looking  from  one' 
to  the  other,  as  I  had  no  recollection  of  ever  hearing  my  hus 
band  mention  the  name  of  the  stranger ;  but  as  he  had  invited 
him  to  share  our  hospitality,  I  did  my  best  to  make  him  wel 
come,  though  in  what  manner  he  was  to  be  accommodated 
puzzled  me  not  a  little.  I  placed  the  arm-chair  by  the  fire, 
and  told  him  that  I  would  prepare  tea  for  him  as  soon  as  I 
could. 

"  It  may  be  as  well  to  tell  you,  Mrs.  Moodie,"  said  he 
sulkily,  for  he  was  evidently  displeased  by  my  husband's  want 
of  recognition  on  his  first  entrance,  "that  I  have  had  no 
dinner." 

I  sighed  to  myself,  for  I  well  knew  that  our  larder  boasted 
of  no  dainties ;  and  from  the  animal  expression  of  our  guest's 
face,  I  rightly  judged  that  he  was  fond  of  good  living. 

By  the  time  I  had  fried  a  rasher  of  salt  pork,  and  made  a 


104  ROUGH IX Q  IT  IN  THE  BUS&. 

pot  of  dandelion  coffee,  the  bread  I  had  been  preparing  was 
baked  ;  but  grown  flour  will  not  make  light  bread,  and  it  was 
unusually  heavy.  For  the  first  time  I  felt  heartily  ashamed 
of  our  humble  fare.  I  was  sure  that  he  for  whom  it  was  pro 
vided  was  not  one  to  pass  it  over  in  benevolent  silence.  "  He 
might  be  a  gentleman,"  I  thought,  "  but  he  does  not  look  like 
one ;"  and  a  confused  idea  of  who  he  was,  and  where  Moodie 
had  met  with  him,  began  to  float  through  my  mind.  I  did 
not  like  the  appearance  of  the  man,  but  I  consoled  myself  that 
he  was  only  to  stay  for  'one  night,  and  I  could  give  up  my  bed 
for  that  one  night,  and  sleep  on  a  bed  on  the  floor  by  my  sick 
husband.  When  I  re-entered  the  parlour  to  cover  the  table, 
I  found  Moodie  fallen  asleep,  and  Mr.  Malcolm  reading.  As 
I  placed  the  tea-things  on  the  table,  he  raised  his  head,  and 
regarded  me  with  a  gloomy  stare.  He  was  a  strange-looking 
creature ;  his  features  were  tolerably  regular,  his  complexion 
dark,  with  a  good  colour,  his  very  broad  and  round  head  was 
covered  with  a  perfect  mass  of  close,  black,  curling  hair,  which, 
in  growth,  texture,  and  hue,  resembled  the  wiry,  curly  hide 
of  a  water-dog.  His  eyes  and  mouth  were  both  well-shaped, 
but  gave,  by  their  sinister  expression,  an  odious  and  doubtful 
meaning  to  the  whole  of  his  physiognomy.  The  eyes  were 
cold,  insolent,  and  cruel,  and  as  green  as  the  eyes  of  a  cat. 
The  mouth  bespoke  a  sullen,  determined,  and  sneering  dispo 
sition,  as  if  it  belonged  to  one  brutally  obstinate,  one  who 
could  not  by  any  gentle  means  be  persuaded  from  his  pur 
pose.  Such  a  man  in  a  passion  would  have  been  a  terriblo 
wild  beast ;  but  the  current  of  his  feelings  seemed  to  flow  in 
a  deep  sluggish  channel,  rather  than  in  a  violent  or  impetuous 
one  ;  and,  like  William  Penn,  when  he  reconnoitred  his  unwel 
come  visitors  through  the  keyhole  of  the  door,  I  looked  at  my 
strange  guest,  and  liked  him  not.  Perhaps  my  distant  and  con 
strained  manner  made  him  painfully  aware  of  the  fact,  for  I  ara 


THE  LITTLE  STUMP  T  MAN.  105 

certain  that,  from  that  first  hour  of  our  acquaintance,  a  deep- 
rooted  antipathy  existed  between  us,  which  time  seemed 
rather  to  strengthen  than  diminish. 

•  He  ate  of  his  meal  sparingly,  and  with  evident  disgust ;  the 
only  remarks  which  dropped  from  him  were : 

"  You  make  bad  bread  in  the  bush.  Strange,  that  you  can't 
keep  your  potatoes  from  the  frost !  I  should  have  thought 
that  you  could  have  had  things  more  comfortable  in  the 
woods." 

"  We  have  been  very  unfortunate,"  I  said,  "  since  we  came 
to  the  woods.  I  am  sorry  that  you  should  be  obliged  to  share 
the  poverty  of  the  land.  It  would  have  given  me  much 
pleasure  could  I  have  set  before  you  a  more  comfortable 
meal." 

"  Oh,  don't  mention  it.  So  that  I  get  good  pork  and  pota 
toes  I  shall  be  contented." 

What  did  these  words  imply  ? — an  extension  of  his  visit  ? 
I  hoped  that  I  was  mistaken  ;  but  before  I  could  lose  any  time 
in  conjecture  my  husband  awoke.  The  fit  had  left  him,  and 
he  rose  and  dressed  himself,  and  was  soon  chatting  cheerfully 
with  his  guest. 

Mr.  Malcolm  now  informed  him  that  he  was  hiding  from 

the  sheriff  of  the  N district's  officers,  and  that  it  would 

be  conferring  upon  him  a  great  favour  if  he  would  allow  him 
to  remain  at  his  house  for  a  few  weeks. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Malcolm,"  said  Moodie,  "  we  are 
so  badly  off  that  we  can  scarcely  find  food  for  ourselves  and 
the  children.  It  is  out  of  our  power  to  make  you  comfortable, 
or  to  keep  an  additional  hand,  without  he  is  willing  to  render 
some  little  help  on  the  farm.  If  you  can  do  this,  I  will  en 
deavour  to  get  a  few  necessaries  on  credit,  to  make  your  stay 
more  agreeable." 

To  tliis  proposition  Malcolm  readily  assented,  not  only 

VOL.  II.  5* 


106  ROUGHING  If  IN  THE  BUSff. 

because  it  released  him  from  all  sense  of  obligation,  but  be- 
cause  it  gave  him  a  privilege  to  grumble. 

Finding  that  his  stay  might  extend  to  an  indefinite  period, 
I  got  Jacob  to  construct  a  rude  bedstead  out  of  two  large' 
chests  that  had  transported  some  of  our  goods  across  the  At 
lantic,  and  which  he  put  up  in  a  corner  of  the  parlour.  This 
I  provided  with  a  small  hair-mattress,  and  furnished  with  what 
bedding  I  could  spare. 

For  the  first  fortnight  of  his  sojourn,  our  guest  did  nothing 
but  lie  upon  that  bed,  and  read,  and  smoke,  and  drink  whis- 
key  and  water  from  morning  until  night.  By  degrees  he  let 
out  part  of  his  history ;  but  there  was  a  mystery  about  him 
which  he  took  good  care  never  to  clear  up.  He  was  the  son 
of  an  officer  in  the  navy,  who  had  not  only  attained  a  very 
high  rank  in  the  service,  but,  for  his  gallant  conduct,  had  been 
made  a  Knight-Companion  of  the  Bath. 

He  had  himself  served  his  time  as  a  midshipman  on  board 
his  father's  flag-ship,  but  had  left  the  navy  and  accepted  a 
commission  in  the  Buenos-Ayrean  service  during  the  political 
struggles  in  that  province  ;  he  had  commanded  a  sort  of  pri 
vateer  under  the  government,  to  whom,  by  his  own  account, 
he  had  rendered  many  very  signal  services.  Why  he  left 
South  America  and  came  to  Canada  he  kept  a  profound  secret. 
He  had  indulged  in  very  vicious  and  dissipated  courses  since 
he  came  to  the  province,  and  by  his  own  account  had  spent 
upwards  of  four  thousand  pounds,  in  a  manner  not  over  cred 
itable  to  himself.  Finding  that  his  friends  would  answer  his 
bills  no  longer,  he  took  possession  of  a  grant  of  land  obtained 
through  his  father's  interest,  up  in  Horsey,  a  barren  township 
on  the  shores  of  Stony  Lake ;  and,  after  putting  up  his  shanty, 
and  expending  all  his  remaining  means,  he  found  that  he  did 
not  possess  one  acre  out  of  the  whole  four  hundred  that  would 
yield  a  crop  of  potatoes.  He  was  now  considerably  in  debt, 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  107 

and  the  lands,  such  as  they  were,  had  been  seized,  with  all  his 
effects,  by  the  sheriff,  and  a  warrant  was  out  for  his  own  ap 
prehension,  which  he  contrived  to  elude  during  his  sojourn 
with  us.  Money  he  had  none ;  and,  beyond  the  dirty  fear 
nought  blue  seaman's  jacket  which  he  wore,  a  pair  of  trowsers 
of  the  coarse  cloth  of  the  country,  an  old  black  vest  that  had 
seen  better  days,  and  two  blue-checked  shirts,  clothes  he  had 
none.  He  shaved  but  once  a  week,  never  combed  his  hair, 
and  never  washed  himself.  A  dirtier  or  more  slovenly  crea 
ture  never  before  was  dignified  by  the  title  of  a  gentleman. 
He  was,  however,  a  man  of  good  education,  of  excellent 
abilities,  and  possessed  a  bitter,  sarcastic  knowledge  of  the 
world ;  but  he  was  selfish  and  unprincipled  in  the  highest 


His  shrewd  observations  and  great  conversational  powers 
had  first  attracted  my  husband's  attention,  and,  as  men  seldom 
show  their  bad  qualities  on  a  journey,  he  thought  him  a  blunt, 
good" fellow,  who  had  travelled  a  great  deal,  and  could  render 
himself  a  very  agreeable  companion  by  a  graphic  relation  of 
his  adventures.  He  could  be  all  this,  when  he  chose  to  relax 
from  his  sullen,  morose  mood ;  and,  much  as  I  disliked  him, 
I  have  listened  with  interest  for  hours  to  his  droll  descriptions 
of  South  American  life  and  manners: 

Naturally  indolent,  and  a  constitutional  grumbler,  it  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  Moodie  could  get  him  to  do 
any  thing  beyond  bringing  a  few  pails  of  water  from  the 
swamp  for  the  use  of  the  house,  and  he  has  often  passed  me 
carrying  water  up  from  the  lake  without  offering  to  relieve 
me  of  the  burden.  Mary,  the  betrothed  of  Jacob,  called  him 
a  perfect  beast ;  but  he,  returning  good  for  evil,  considered 
her  a  very  pretty  girl,  and  paid  her  so  many  uncouth  atten 
tions  that  he  roused  the  jealousy  of  honest  Jake,  who  vowed 
that  he  would  give  him  a  good  "  loomping"  if  he  only  dared 


103  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

to  lay  a  finger  upon  his  sweetheart.  With  Jacob  to  back  ber, 
Mary  treated  the  "  zea-bear,"  as  Jacob  termed  him,  with  vast 
disdain,  and  was  so  saucy  to  him  that,  forgetting  his  admira 
tion,  he  declared  he  would  like  to  serve  her  as  the  Indians 
had  done  a  scolding  woman  in  South  America.  They  at 
tacked  her  house  during  the  absence  of  her  husband,  cut  out 
her  tongue,  and  nailed  it  to  the  door,  by  way  of  knocker ; 
and  he  thought  that  all  women  who  could  not  keep  a  civil 
tongue  in  their  head  should  be  served  in  the  same  manner. 

"  And  what  should  be  done  to  men  who  swear  and  use  on- 
dacent  language  ?"  quoth  Mary,  indignantly.  "  Their  tongues 
should  be  slit,  and  given  to  the  dogs.  Faugh !  You  are  such 
a  nasty  fellow  that  I  don't  think  Hector  would  eat  your 
tongue." 

;  "I'll  kill  that  beast,"  muttered  Malcolm,  as  he  walked 
away. 

I  remonstrated  with  him  on  the  impropriety  of  bandying 
words  with  our  servants.  "  You  see,"  I  said,  "  the  disrespect 
with  which  they  treat  you ;  and  if  they  presume  upon  your  fa 
miliarity,  to  speak  to  our  guest  in  this  contemptuous  manner, 
they  will  soon  extend  the  same  conduct  to  us." 

"  But,  Mrs.  Moodie,  you  should  reprove  them." 

"  I  cannot,  sir,  while  you  continue,  by  taking  liberties  with 
the  girl,  and  swearing  at  the  man,  to  provoke  them  to  retali 
ation." 

"  Swearing !  What  harm  is  there  in  swearing  ?  A  sailor 
cannot  live  without  oaths." 

"  But  a  gentleman  might,  Mr.  Malcolm.  I  should  be  sorry 
to  consider  you  in  any  other  light." 

I  "  Ah,  you  are  such  a  prude — so  methodistical — you  make 
no  allowance  for  circumstances!  Surely,  in  the  woods  we 
may  dispense  with  the  hypocritical,  conventional  forms  of 
society,  and  speak  and  act  as  we  please." 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  109 

"  So  you  seem  to  think  ;  but  you  see  the  result." 

"  I  have  never  been  used  to  the  society  of  ladies,  and  I 
cannot  fashion  my  words  to  please  them ;  and  I  won't,  that's 
more  !"  he  muttered  to  himself,  as  he  strode  off  to  Moodie  in 
the  field.  I  wished  from  my  very  heart  that  he  was  once 
more  on  the  deck  of  his  piratical  South  American  craft. 

One  night  he  insisted  on  going  out  in  the  canoe  to  spear 
muskinonge  with  Moodie.  The  evening  turned  out  very  chill 
and  foggy,  and,  before  twelve,  they  returned,  with  only  one 
fish,  and  half  frozen  with  cold.  Malcolm  had  got  twinges  of 
rheumatism,  and  he  fussed,  and  sulked,  and  swore,  and  quar 
relled  with  every  body  and  every  thing,  until  Moodie,  who 
was  highly  amused  by  his  petulance,  advised  him  to  go  to  his 
bed,  and  pray  for  the  happy  restoration  of  his  temper. 

"  Temper  !"  he  cried,  "  I  don't  believe  there's  a  good-tem 
pered  person  in  the  world.  It's  all  hypocrisy !  I  never  had  a 
good  temper !  My  mother  was  an  ill-tempered  woman,  and 
ruled  my  father,  who  was  a  confoundedly  severe,  domineering 
man.  I  was  born  in  an  ill  temper.  I  was  an  ill-tempered 
child ;  I  grew  up  an  ill-tempered  man.  I  feel  worse  than  ill 
tempered  now,  and  when  I  die  it  will  be  in  an  illtemper." 

"  Well,"  quoth  I,  "  Moodie  has  made  you  a  tumbler  of 
hot  punch,  which  may  help  to  drive  out  the  cold  and  the  ill 
temper,  and  cure  the  rheumatism." 

"  Ay ;  your  husband's  a  good  fellow,  and  worth  two  of 
you,  Mrs.  Moodie.  He  makes  some  allowance  for  the  weak 
ness  of  human  nature,  and  can  excuse  even  my  ill  temper." 

I  did  not  choose  to  bandy  words  with  him,  and  the  next 
day  the  unfortunate  creature  was  shaking  with  the  ague.  A 
more  intractable,  outrageous,  zm-patient  I  never  had  the  ill 
fortune  to  nurse.  During  the  cold  fit,  he  did  nothing  but 
swear  at  the  cold,  and  wished  himself  roasting ;  and  during 
the  fever,  he  swore  at  the  heat,  and  wished  that  he  was  sitting, 


110  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

in  no  other  garment  than  his  shirt,  on  the  north  side  of  an  ice 
berg.  And  when  the  fit  at  last  left  him,  he  got  up,  and 
ate  such  quantities  of  fat  pork,  and  drank  so  much  whiskey- 
punch,  that  you  would  have  imagined  he  had  just  arrived 
from  a  long  journey,  and  had  not  tasted  food  for  a  couple  of 
days. 

He  would  not  believe  that  fishing  in  the  cold  night-air 
upon  the  water  had  made  him  ill,  but  raved  that  it  was  all  my 
fault  for  having  laid  my  baby  down  on  his  bed  while  it  was 
shaking  with  the  ague. 

Yet,  if  there  were  the  least  tenderness  mixed  up  in  his  iron 
nature,  it  was  the  affection  he  displayed  for  that  young  child. 
Dunbar  was  just  twenty  months  old,  with  bright,  dark  eyes, 
dimpled  cheeks,  and  soft,  flowing,  golden  hair,  which  fell 
round  his  infant  face  in  rich  curls.  The  merry,  confiding  little 
creature  formed  such  a  contrast  to  his  own  surly,  unyielding 
temper,  that,  perhaps,  that  very  circumstance  made  the  bond 
of  union  between  them.  When  in  the  house,  the  little  boy 
was  seldom  out  of  his  arms,  and  whatever  were  Malcolm's 
faults,  he  had  none  in  the  eyes  of  the  child,  who  used  to  cling 
around  his  neck,  and  kiss  his  rough,  unshaven  cheeks  with  the 
greatest  fondness. 

"  If  I  could  afford  it,  Moodie,"  he  said  one  day  to  my  hus 
band,  "  I  should  like  to  marry.  I  want  some  one  upon  whom 
I  could  vent  my  affections."  And  wanting  that  some  one  in 
the  form  of  woman,  he  contented  himself  with  venting  them 
upon  the  child. 

As  the  spring  advanced,  and  after  Jacob  left  us,  he  seemed 
ashamed  of  sitting  in  the  house  doing  nothing,  and  therefore 
undertook  to  make  us  a  garden,  or  "  to  make  garden,"  as  the 
Canadians  term  preparing  a  few  vegetables  for  the  season. 
I  procured  the  necessary  seeds,  and  watched  with  no  small 
surprise  the  industry  with  which  our  strange  visitor  com- 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  Ill 

menced  operations.  He  repaired  the  broken  fence,  dug  the 
ground  with  the  greatest  care,  and  laid  it  out  with  a  skill  and 
neatness  of  which  I  had  believed  him  perfectly  incapable.  In 
less  than  three  weeks,  the  whole  plot  presented  a  very  pleas 
ing  prospect,  and  he  was  really  elated  by  his  success. 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  he,  "  we  shall  no  longer  be  starved  on 
bad  flour  and  potatoes.  We  shall  have  peas,  and  beans,  and 
beets,  and  carrots,  and  cabbage  in  abundance ;  besides  the 
plot  L  have  reserved  for  cucumbers  and  melons." 

"  Ah,"  thought  I,  "  does  he,  indeed,  mean  to  stay  with  us 
until  the  melons  are  ripe  1"  and  my  heart  died  within  me,  for 
he  not  only  was  a  great  additional  expense,  but  he  gave  a 
great  deal  of  additional  trouble,  and  entirely  robbed  us  of  all 
privacy,  as  our  very  parlour  was  converted  into  a  bedroom 
for  his  accommodation ;  besides  that,  a  man  of  his  singularly 
dirty  habits  made  a  very  disagreeable  inmate. 

The  only  redeeming  point  in  his  character,  in  my  eyes, 
was  his  love  for  Dunbar.  I  could  not  entirely  hate  a  man 
who  was  so  fondly  attached  to  my  child.  To  the  two  little 
girls  he  was  very  cross,  and  often  chased  them  from  him  with 
blows.  He  had,  too,  an  odious  way  of  finding  fault  with 
every  thing.  I  never  could  cook  to  please  him ;  and  he  tried 
in  the  most  malicious  way  to  induce  Moodie  to  join  in  his 
complaints.  All  his  schemes  to  make  strife  between  us,  how 
ever,  failed,  and  were  generally  visited  upon  himself.  In  no 
way  did  he  ever  seek  to  render  me  the  least  assistance. 
Shortly  after  Jacob  left  us,  Mary  Price  was  offered  higher 
wages  by  a  family  at  Peterborough,  and  for  some  time  I  was 
left  with  four  little  children,  and  without  a  servant.  Moodie 
always  milked  the  cows,  because  I  never  could  overcome  my 
fear  of  cattle ;  and  though  I  had  occasionally  milked  when 
there  was  no  one  else  in  the  way,  it  was  in  fear  and  trembling. 
Moodie  had  to  go  down  to  Peterborough ;  but  before  he 


112  EO  U GOING-  IT  IN  THE  X  USE. 

went,  he  begged  Malcolm  to  bring  me  what  water  and  wood 
I  required,  and  to  stand  by  the  cattle  while  I  milked  the  cows, 
and  he  would  himself  be  home  before  night.  He  started  at 
six  in  the  morning,  and  I  got  the  pail  to  go  and  milk.  Mal 
colm  was  lying  upon  his  bed,  reading. 

"  Mr.  Malcolm,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  go  with  me  to 
the  fields  for  a  few  minutes  while  I  milk  ?" 

"Yes  !"  (then,  with  a  sulky  frown,)  "but  I  want  to  finish 
what  I  am  reading." 

"  I  will  not  detain  you  long." 

"  Oh,  no !  I  suppose  about  an  hour.  You  are  a  shocking 
bad  milker." 

"True;  I  never  went  near  a  cow  until  I  came  to  this 
country ;  and  I  have  never  been  able  to  overcome  my  fear 
of  them." 

"  More  shame  for  you  !  A  farmer's  wife,  and  afraid  of  a 
cow !  Why,  these  little  children  would  laugh  at  you." 

I  did  not  reply,  nor  would  I  ask  him  again.  I  walked 
slowly  to  the  field,  and  my  indignation  made  me  forget  my 
fear.  I  had  just  finished  milking,  and  with  a  brimming  pail 
was  preparing  to  climb  the  fence  and  return  to  the  house, 
when  a  very  wild  ox  we  had  came  running  with  headlong 
speed  from  the  wood.  All  my  fears  were  alive  again  in  a 
moment.  I  snatched  up  the  pail,  and,  instead  of  climbing  the 
fence  and  getting  to  the  house,  I  ran  with  all  the  speed  I  could 
command  down  the  steep  hill  towards  the  lake  shore  ;  my 
feet  caught  in  a  root  of  the  many  stumps  in  the  path,  and  I 
fell  to  the  ground,  my  pail  rolling  many  yards  ahead  of  me. 
Every  drop  of  my  milk  was  spilt  upon  the  grass.  The  ox 
passed  on.  I  gathered  myself  up  and  returned  home.  Mal 
colm  Mras  very  fond  of  new  milk,  and  he  came  to  meet  me  at 
the  door. 

«  Hi  i  hi !— Where's  the  milk  ?» 


THE  LITTLE  STUMP  Y  MAN,  1 1 3 

"  No  milk  for  the  poor  children  to-day,"  said  I,  showing 
him  the  inside  of  the  pail,  with  a  sorrowful  shake  of  the  head, 
for  it  was  no  small  loss  to  them  and  me. 

"  How  the  devil's  that  1  So  you  were  afraid  to  milk  the 
cows.  Come  away,  and  I  will  keep  off  the  buggaboos." 

"I  did  milk  them — no  thanks  to  your  kindness,  Mr.  Mal 
colm—but—" 

"But  what TJ 

"  The  ox  frightened  me,  and  I  fell  and  spilt  all  the  milk." 

"Whew!  Now  don't  go  and  tell  your  husband  that  it 
was  all  my  fault ;  if  you  had  had  a  little  patience,  I  would 
have  come  when  you  asked  me,  but  I  don't  choose  to  be  dic 
tated  to,  and  I  won't  be  made  a  slave  by  you  or  any  one 
else." 

"  Then  why  do  you  stay,  sir,  where  you  consider  yourself 
so  treated  ?"  said  I.  "  We  are  all  obliged  to  work  to  obtain 
bread ;  we  give  you  the  best  share — surely  the  return  we  ask 
for  it  is  but  small." 

"  You  make  me  feel  my  obligations  to  you  when  you  ask 
me  to  do  any  thing ;  if  you  left  it  to  my  better  feelings  we 
should  get  on  better." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right.  I  will  never  ask  you  to  do  any 
thing  for  me  in  future." 

"  Oh,  now,  that's  all  mock  humility.  In  spite  of  the  tears 
in  your  eyes,  you  are  as  angry  with  me  as  ever ;  but  don't 
go  to  make  mischief  between  me  and  Moodie.  If  you'll  say 
nothing  about  rny  refusing  to  go  with  you,  I'll  milk  the  cows 
for  you  myself  to-night." 

"  And  can  you  milk  f  said  I,  with  some  curiosity. 

"Milk!      Yes;  and  if  I  were  not  so  confoundedly  low- 

spirited  and lazy,  I  could  do  a  thousand  other  things  too. 

But  now,  don't  say  a  word  about  it  to  Moodie." 
.  I  made  no  promise ;  but  my  respect  for  him  was  not  in- 


114  EOUGinNG  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

creased  by  his  cowardly  fear  of  reproof  from  Moodie,  who 
treated  him  with  a  kindness  and  consideration  which  he  did 
not  deserve.  The  afternoon  turned  out  very  wet,  and  I  was 
sorry  that  I  should  be  troubled  with  his  company  all  day  in 
the  house.  I  was  making  a  shirt  for  Moodie  from  some 
cotton  that  had  been  sent  me  from  home,  and  he  placed  him 
self  by  the  side  of  the  stove,  just  opposite,  and  continued  to 
regard  me  for  a  long  time  with  his  usual  sullen  stare.  I 
really  felt  half  afraid  of  him. 

"  Don't  you  think  me  mad  ?"  said  he.  "  I  have  a  brother 
deranged ;  he  got  a  stroke  of  the  sun  in  India,  and  lost  his 
senses  in  consequence ;  but  sometimes  I  think  it  runs  in  the 
family." 

What  answer  could  I  give  to  this  speech,  but  mere  evasive 
commonplace  ? 

"  You  won't  say  what  you  really  think,"  he  continued ; 
"I  know  you  hate  me,  and  that  makes  me  dislike  you.  Now 
what  would  you  say  if  I  told  you  I  had  committed  a  murder, 
and  that  it  was  the  recollection  of  that  circumstance  that  made 
me  at  times  so  restless  and  unhappy  ]" 

I  looked  up  in  his  face,  not  knowing  what  to  believe. 

"  'Tis  fact,"  said  he,  nodding  his  head ;  and  I  hoped  that 
he  would  not  go  mad,  like  his  brother,  and  kill  me. 

"  Come,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it ;  I  know  the  world  would 
laugh  at  me  for  calling  such  an  act  murder  ;  and  yet  I  have 
been  such  a  miserable  man  ever  since,  that  I  feel  it  was. 

"There  was  a  noted  leader  among  the  rebel  Buenos- 
Ayreans,  whom  the  government  wanted  much  to  get  hold  of. 
He  was  a  fine,  dashing,  handsome  fellow ;  I  had  often  seen 
him,  but  we  never  came  to  close  quarters.  One  night,  I  was 
lying  wrapped  up  in  my  poncho  at  the  bottom  of  my  boat, 
which  was  rocking  in  the  surf,  waiting  for  two  of  my  men, 
who  were  gone  on  shore.  There  came  to  the  shore,  this  man 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  115 

and  one  of  his  people,  and  they  stood  so  near  the  boat,  which 
I  suppose  they  thought  empty,  that  I  could  distinctly  hear 
their  conversation.  I  suppose  it  was  the  devil  who  tempted 
me  to  put  a  bullet  through  that  man's  heart.  He  was  an 
enemy  to  the  flag  under  which  I  fought,  but  he  was  no  enemy 
to  me — I  had  no  right  to  become  his  executioner ;  but  still 
the  desire  to  kill  him,  for  the  mere  deviltry  of  the  thing,  came 
so  strongly  upon  me  that  I  no  longer  tried  to  resist  it.  1  rose 
slowly  upon  my  knees ;  the  moon  was  shining  very  bright  at 
the  time,  both  he  and  his  companion  were  too  earnestly 
engaged  to  see  me,  and  I  deliberately  shot  him  through  the 
body.  He  fell  with  a  heavy  groan  back  into  the  water  ;  but 
I  caught  the  last  look  he  threw  up  to  the  moonlight  skies  be 
fore  his  eyes  glazed  in  death.  Oh,  that  look! — so  full  of 
despair,  of  unutterable  anguish ;  it  haunts  me  yet — it  will 
haunt  me  for  ever.  I  would  not  have  cared  if  I  had  killed 
him  in  strife — but  in  cold  blood,  and  he  so  unsuspicious  of  his 
doom  !  Yes,  it  was  murder ;  I  know  by  this  constant  tugging 
at  my  heart  that  it  was  murder.  What  do  you  say  to  it?" 

"  I  should  think  as  you  do,  Mr.  Malcolm.  It  is  a  terrible 
thing  to  take  away  the  life  of  a  fellow-creature  without  the' 
least  provocation." 

"  Ah  !  I  knew  you  would  blame  me  ;  but  he  was  an  enemy 
after  all ;  I  had  a  right  to  kill  him ;  I  was  hired  by  the  gov 
ernment  under  whom  I  served  to  kill  him :  and  who  shall 
condemn  me  ?" 

"  No  one  more  than  your  own  heart." 

"  It  is  not  the  heart,  but  the  brain,  that  must  decide  in 
questions  of  right  and  wrong,"  said  he.  "  I  acted  from  im 
pulse,  and  shot  the  man ;  had  I  reasoned  upon  it  for  five 
minutes,  that  man  would  be  living  now.  But  what's  done 
cannot  be  undone.  Did  I  ever  show  you  the  work  I  wrote 
South  America  ?" 


116  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  Are  you  an  author,"  said  I,  incredulously. 

"  To  be  sure  I  am.  Murray  offered  me  £100  for  my 
manuscript,  but  I  would  not  take  it.  Shall  I  read  to  you 
some  passages  from  it  7" 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  his  behaviour  in  the  morning  was 
uppermost  in  my  thoughts,  and  I  had  no  repugnance  in  re 
fusing. 

"  No,  don't  trouble  yourself.  I  have  the  dinner  to  cook, 
and  the  children  to  attend  to,  which  will  cause  a  constant  in 
terruption  ;  you  had  better  defer  it  to  some  other  time." 

"  I  shan't  ask  you  to  listen  to  me  again,"  said  he,  with  a 
look  of  offended  vanity ;  but  he  went  to  his  trunk,  and 
brought  out  a  large  MS.,  written  on  foolscap,  which  he 
commenced  reading  to  himself  with  an  air  of  great  self- 
importance,  glancing  from  time  to  time  at  me,  and  smiling 
disdainfully.  Oh,  how  glad  I  was  when  the  door  opened,  and 
the  return  of  Moodie  broke  up  this  painful  tete-a-tete. 

From  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous  is  but  a  step.  The 
very  next  day,  Mr.  Malcolm  made  his  appearance  before  me, 
wrapped  in  a  great-coat  belonging  to  my  husband,  which 
literally  came  down  to  his  heels.  At  this  strange  apparition, 
I  fell  a-laughing. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Mrs.  Moodie,  lend  me  a  pair  of  inex 
pressibles.  I  have  met  with  an  accident  in  crossing  the  fence, 
and  mine  are  torn  to  shreds — gone  to  the  devil  entirely." 

"  Well,  don't  swear.      I'll  see  what  can  be  done  for  you." 

I  brought  him  a  new  pair  of  fine,  drab-coloured  kerseymere 
trowsers  that  had  never  been  worn.  Although  he  was  elo 
quent  in  his  thanks,  I  had  no  idea  that  he  meant  to  keep  them 
for  his  sole  individual  use  from  that  day  thenceforth.  But 
after  all,  what  was  the  man  to  do  ?  He  had  no  trowsers,  and 
no  money,  and  he  could  not  take  to  the  woods.  Certainly 
his  loss  was  not  our  gain.  It  was  the  old  proverb  reversed. 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  117 

The  season  for  putting  in  the  potatoes  had  now  arrived. 
Malcolm  volunteered  to  cut  the  sets,  which  was  easy  work 
that  could  be  done  in  the  house,  and  over  which  he  could 
lounge  and  smoke  ;  but  Moodie  told  him  that  he  must  take  his 
share  in  the  field,  that  I  had  already  sets  enough  saved  to 
plant  half-an-acre,  and  would  have  more  prepared  by  the  time 
they  were  required.  With  many  growls  and  shrugs,  he  felt 
obliged  to  comply ;  and  he  performed  his  part  pretty  well, 
the  execrations  bestowed  upon  the  mosquitoes  and  black-flies 
forming  a  sort  of  safety-valve  to  let  off  the  concentrated  venom 
of  his  temper.  When  he  came  in  to  dinner,  he  held  out  his 
hands  to  me. 

"  Look  at  these  hands." 

"  They  are  blistered  with  the  hoe.'* 

"  Look  at  my  face." 

"  You  are  terribly  disfigured  by  the  black-flies.  But 
Moodie  suffers  just  as  much,  and  says  nothing." 

"  Bah ! — The  only  consolation  one  feels  for  such  annoy 
ances  is  to  complain.  Oh,  the  woods  ! — the  cursed  woods  ! — 
how  I  wish  I  were  out  of  them."  The  day  was  very  warm, 
but  in  the  afternoon  I  was  surprised  by  a  visit  from  an  old 

maiden  lady,  a  friend  of  mine  from  C .  She  had  walked 

up  with  a  Mr.  Crowe,  from  Peterborough,  a  young,  brisk- 
looking  farmer,  in  breeches  and  top-boots,  just  out  from  the 
old  country,  who,  naturally  enough,  thought  he  would  like  to 
roost -among  the  woods. 

He  was  a  little,  lively,  good-natured  manny,  with  a  real 
Anglo-Saxon  face, — rosy,  high  cheek-boned,  with  full  lips,  and 
a  turned -up  nose ;  and,  like  most  little  men,  was  a  great 
talker,  and  very  full  of  himself.  He  had  belonged  to  the 
secondary  class  of  farmers,  and  was  very  vulgar,  both  in 
person  and  manners.  I  had  just  prepared  tea  for  my  visitors, 
when  Malcolm  and  Moodie  returned  from  the  field.  There 


118  £  0  UGHING-  IT  IN  THE  B  USE. 

was  no  affectation  about  the  former.  He  was  manly  m  his 
person,  and  blunt  even  to  rudeness,  and  I  saw  by  the  quizzical 
look  which  he  cast  upon  the  spruce  little  Crowe  that  he  was 
quietly  quizzing  him  from  head  to  heel.  A  neighbour  had 
sent  me  a  present  of  maple  molasses,  and  Mr.  Crowe  was  so 
fearful  of  spilling  some  of  the  rich  syrup  upon  his  drab  shorts 
that  he  spread  a  large  pocket-handkerchief  over  his  knees,  and 
tucked  another  under  his  chin.  I  felt  very  much  inclined  to 
laugh,  but  restrained  the  inclination  as  well  as  I  could — and 
if  the  little  creature  would  have  sat  still,  I  could  have  quelled 
my  rebellious  propensity  altogether ;  but  up  he  would  jump 
at  every  word  I  said  to  him,  and  make  me  a  low,  jerking  bow, 
often  with  his  mouth  quite  full,  and  the  treacherous  molasses 
running  over  his  chin. 

Malcolm  sat  directly  opposite  to  me  and  my  volatile  next- 
door  neighbour.  He  saw  the  intense  difficulty  I  had  to  keep 
my  gravity,  and  was  determined*  to  make  me  laugh  out.  So, 
coming  slyly  behind  my  chair,  he  whispered  in  my  ear,  with 
the  gravity  of  a  judge,  "  Mrs.  Moodie,  that  must  have  been 
the  very  chap  who  first  jumped  Jim  Crowe." 

This  appeal  obliged  me  to  run  from  the  table.  Moodie 
was  astonished  at  my  rudeness  ;  and  Malcolm,  as  he  resumed 
his  seat,  made  the  matter  worse  by  saying,  "  I  wonder  what 
is  the  matter  with  Mrs.  Moodie ;  she  is  certainly  very  hys 
terical  this  afternoon." 

The  potatoes  were  planted,  and  the  season  of  strawber 
ries,  green  peas,  and  young  potatoes  come,  but  still  Malcolm 
remained  our  constant  guest.  He  had  grown  so  indolent,  and 
gave  himself  so  many  airs,  that  Moodie  was  heartily  sick  of 
his  company,  and  gave  him  many  gentle  hints  to  change  his 
quarters  ;  but  our  guest  was  determined  to  take  no  hint.  For 
some  reason  best  known  to  himself,  perhaps  out  of  sheer  con 
tradiction,  which  formed  one  great  element  in  his  character, 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  J/Zv.  119 


he  seemed  obstinately  bent  upon  remaining  where  he  was. 
Moodie  was  busy  under-bushing  for  a  fall  fallow.  Malcolm 
spent  much  of  his  time  in  the  garden,  or  lounging  about  the 
house.  I  had  baked  an  eel-pie  for  dinner,  which  if  prepared 
well  is  by  no  means  an  unsavoury  dish.  Malcolm  had  cleaned 
some  green  peas,  and  washed  the  first  young  potatoes  we  had 
drawn  that  season,  with  his  own  hands,  and  he  was  reckoning 
upon  the  feast  he  should  have  on  the  potatoes  with  childish 
glee.  The  dinner  at  length  was  put  upon  the  table.  The 
vegetables  were  remarkably  fine,  and  the  pie  looked  very 
nice. 

Moodie  helped  Malcolm,  as  he  always  did,  very  largely, 
and  the  other  covered  his  plate  with  a  portion  of  peas  and 
potatoes,  when,  lo  and  behold  !  my  gentleman  began  making 
a  very  wry  face  at  the  pie. 

"  What  an  infernal  dish  !"  he  cried,  pushing  away  his  plate 
writh  an  air  of  great  disgust.  "  These  eels  taste  as  if  they  had 
been  stewed  in  oil.  Moodie,  you  should  teach  your  wife  to 
be  a  better  cook." 

The  hot  blood  burnt  upon  Moodie's  cheek.  I  saw  indigna 
tion  blazing  in  his  eye. 

"  If  you  don't  like  what  is  prepared  for  you,  sir,  you  may 
leave  the  table,  and  my  house,  if  you  please.  I  will  put  up 
with  your  ungentlemanly  and  ungrateful  conduct  to  Mrs. 
Moodie  no  longer." 

Out  stalked  the  offending  party.  I  thought,  to  be  sure,  we 
had  got  rid  of  him  ;  and  though  he  deserved  what  was  said 
to  him,  I  was  sorry  for  him.  Moodie  took  his  dinner,  quietly 
remarking,  "  I  wonder  he  could  find  it  in  his  heart  to  leave 
those  fine  peas  and  potatoes." 

He  then  went  back  to  his  work  in  the  bush,  and  I  cleared 
away  the  dishes,  and  churned,  for  I  wanted  butter  for  tea. 

About  four  o'clock,  Mr.  Malcolm  entered  the  room.   "  Mrs. 


120  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

Moodie,"  said  he,  in  a  more  cheerful  voice  than  usual,  "  where's 
the  boss  1" 

"In  the  wood,  under-bushing."  I  felt  dreadfully  afraid 
that  there  would  be  blows  between  them. 

"  I  hope,  Mr.  Malcolm,  that  you  are  not  going  to  him  with 
any  intention  of  a  fresh  quarrel." 

"  Don't  you  think  I  have  been  punished  enough  by  losing 
my  dinner  ?"  said  he,  with  a  grin.  "  I  don't  think  we  shall 
murder  one  another."  He  shouldered  his  axe,  and  went  whist 
ling  away. 

After  striving  for  a  long  while  to  stifle  my  foolish  fears,  I 
took  the  baby  in  my  arms,  and  little  Dunbar  by  the  hand, 
and  ran  up  to  the  bush  where  Moodie  was  at  work. 

At  first  I  only  saw  my  husband,  but  the  strokes  of  an  axe 
at  a  little  distance  soon  guided  my  eyes  to  the  spot  where 
Malcolm  was  working  away,  as  if  for  dear  life.  Moodie 
smiled,  and  looked  at  rne  significantly. 

"How  could  the  fellow  stomach  what  I  said  to  him? 
Either  great  necessity  or  great  meanness  must  be  the  cause 
of  his  knocking  under.  I  don't  know  whether  most  to  pity  or 
despise  him." 

"  Put  up  with  it,  dearest,  for  this  once.  He  is  not  happy, 
and  must  be  greatly  distressed." 

Malcolm  kept  aloof,  ever  and  anon  casting  a  furtive  glance 
towards  us ;  at  last  little  Dunbar  ran  to  him,  and  held  up  his 
arms  to  be  kissed.  The  strange  man  snatched  him  to  his 
bosom,  and  covered  him  with  caresses.  It  might  be  love  to 
the  child  that  had  quelled  his  sullen  spirit,  or  he  might  really 
have  cherished  an  affection  for  us  deeper  than  his  ugly  temper 
would  allow  him  to  show.  At  all  events,  he  joined  us  at  tea 
as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and  we  might  truly  say  that  he  had 
obtained  a  new  lease  of  his  long  visit.  But  what  could  not  be 
effected  by  words  o.r  hints  of  ours  was  brought  about. a  few 


THE  LITTLE  STUMPY  MAN.  121 

days  after  by  the  silly  observation  of  a  child.  He  asked  Katie 
to  give  him  a  kiss,  and  he  would  give  her  some  raspberries 
he  had  gathered  in  the  bush. 

"  I  don't  want  them.  Go  away ;  I  don't  like  you,  you  lit 
tle  stumpy  man  /" 

His  rage  knew  no  bounds.  He  pushed  the  child  from 
him,  and  vowed  that  he  would  leave  the  house  that  moment — 
that  she  could  not  have  thought  of  such  an  expression  herself; 
she  must  have  been  taught  it  by  us.  This  was  an  entire  mis 
conception  on  his  part ;  but  he  would  not  be  convinced  that 
he  was  wrong.  Off  he  went,  and  Moodie  called  after  him, 
"  Malcolm,  as  I  am  sending  to  Peterborough  to-morrow,  the 
man  shall  take  in  your  trunk."  He  was  too  angry  even  to 
turn  and  bid  us  good-bye ;  but  we  had  not  seen  the  last  of 
him  yet.  Two  months  after,  we  were  taking  tea  with  a 
neighbour,  who  lived  a  mile  below  us  on  the  small  lake. 
Who  should  walk  in  but  Mr.  Malcolm  ?  He  greeted  us  with 
great  warmth  for  him,  and  when  we  rose  to  take  leave,  he  rose 
and  walked  home  by  our  side.  "Surely  the  little  stumpy 
man  is  not  returning  to  his  old  quarters  ?"  I  am  still  a  babe 
in  the  affairs  of  men.  Human  nature  has  more  strange  va 
rieties  than  any  one  menagerie  can  contain,  and  Malcolm  was 
one  of  the  oddest  of  her  odd  species. 

That  night  he  slept  in  his  old  bed  below  the  parlour  win 
dow,  and  for  three  months  afterwards  he  stuck  to  us  like  a 
beaver.  He  seemed  to  have  grown  more  kindly,  or  we  had 
got  more  used  to  his  eccentricities,  and  let  him  have  his  own 
way  ;  certainly  he  behaved  himself  much  better.  He  neither 
scolded  the  children  nor  interfered  with  the  maid,  nor  quar 
relled  with  me.  He  had  greatly  discontinued  his  bad  habit 
of  swearing,  and  he  talked  of  himself  and  his  future  prospects 
with  more  hope  and  self-respect.  His  father  had  promised 
to  send  him  a  fresh  supply  of  money,  and  he  proposed  to  buy 

VOL.  II.  6 


122  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

of  Moodie  the  clergy  reserve,  and  that  they  should  farm  the 
two  places  on  shares.  This  offer  was  received  with  great 
joy,  as  an  unlooked-for  means  of  paying  our  debts,  and  ex 
tricating  ourselves  from  present  and  overwhelming  difficulties, 
and  we  looked  upon  the  little  stumpy  man  in  the  light  of  a 
benefactor. 

So  matters  continued  until  Christmas-eve,  when  our 
visitor  proposed  walking  into  Peterborough,  in  order  to  give 
the  children  a  treat  of  raisins  to  make  a  Christmas  pudding. 

"  We  will  be  quite  merry  to-morrow,"  he  said.  "  I  hope 
we  shall  eat  many  Christmas  dinners  together,  and  continue 
good  friends." 

He  started,  after  breakfast,  with  the  promise  of  coming 
back  at  night ;  but  night  came,  the  Christmas  passed  away, 
months  and  years  fled  away,  but  we  never  saw  the  little 
stumpy  man  again ! 

He  went  away  that  day  with  a  stranger  in  a  wagon  from 
Peterborough,  and  never  afterwards  was  seen  in  that  part  of 
Canada.  We  afterwards  learned  that  he  went  to  Texas,  and  it 
is  thought  that  he  was  killed  at  St.  Antonio ;  but  this  is  mere 
conjecture.  Whether  dead  or  living,  I  feel  convinced  that 

"  We  ne'er  shall  look  upon  his  like  again." 


THE  FIEK  123 


CHAPTEE    VIII. 

THE     FIRE. 

THE  early  part  of  the  winter  of  1837,  a  year  never  to  be 
forgotten  in  the  annals  of  Canadian  history,  was  very  se 
vere.  During  the  month  of  February,  the  thermometer  often 
ranged  from  eighteen  to  twenty-seven  degrees  below  zero. 
Speaking  of  the  coldness  of  one  particular  day,  a  genuine  Bro 
ther  Jonathan  remarked,  with  charming  simplicity,  that  it  was 
thirty  degrees  below  zero  that  morning,  and  it  would  have 
been  much  colder  if  the  thermometer  had  been  longer. 

The  morning  of  the  seventh  was  so  intensely  cold  that 
every  thing  liquid  froze  in  the  house.  The  wood  that  had 
been  drawn  for  the  fire  was  green,  and  it  ignited  too  slowly  to 
satisfy  the  shivering  impatience  of  women  and  children;  I 
vented  mine  in  audibly  grumbling  over  the  wretched  fire,  at 
which  I  in  vain  endeavoured  to  thaw  frozen  bread,  and  to  dress 
crying  children. 

It  so  happened  that  an  old  friend,  the  maiden  lady  before 
alluded  to,  had  been  staying  with  us  for  a  few  days.  She  had 
left  us  for  a  visit  to  my  sister,  and  as  some  relatives  of  hers 
were  about  to  return  to  Britain  by  the  way  of  New  York,  and 
had  offered  to  convey  letters  to  friends  at  home,  I  had  been 
busy  all  the  day  before  preparing  a  packet  for  England.  It 
was  my  intention  to  walk  to  my  sister's  with  this  packet,  di 
rectly  the  important  affair  of  breakfast  had  been  discussed ; 
but  the  extreme  cold  of  the  morning  had  occasioned  such 


124  EOUGHINQ  IT  IN  TEE  BUSH. 

delay  that  it  was  late  before  the  breakfast-things  were  cleared 
away. 

After  dressing,  I  found  the  air  so  keen  that  I  could  not 
venture  out  without  some  risk  to  my  nose,  and  my  husband 
kindly  volunteered  to  go  in  my  stead.  I  had  hired  a  young 
Irish  girl  the  day  before.  Her  friends  were  only  just  located  \ 
in  our  vicinity,  and  she  had  never  seen  a  stove  until  she  came 
to  our  house.  After  Moodie  left,  I  suffered  the  fire  to  die 
away  in  the  Franklin  stove  in  the  parlour,  and  went  into  the 
kitchen  to  prepare  bread  for  the  oven. 

The  girl,  who  was  a  good-natured  creature,  had  heard  me 
complain  bitterly  of  the  cold,  and  the  impossibility  of  getting 
the  green  wood  to  burn,  and  she  thought  that  she  would  see 
if  she  could  not  make  a  good  fire  for  me  and  the  children, 
against  my  work  was  done.  Without  saying  one  word  about 
her  intention,  she  slipped  out  through  a  door  that  opened  from 
^the  parlour  into  the  garden,  ran  round  to  the  wood-yard,  filled 
her  lap  with  cedar  chips,  and,  not  knowing  the  nature  of  the 
stove,  filled  it  entirely  with  the  light  wood. 

Before  I  had  the  least  idea  of  my  danger,  I  was  aroused 
from  the  completion  of  my  task  by  the  crackling  and  roaring 
of  a  large  fire,  and  a  suffocating  smell  of  burning  soot.  I 
looked  up  at  the  kitchen  cooking-stove.  All  was  right  there. 
I  knew  I  had  left  no  fire  in  the  parlour  stove ;  but  not  being 
able  to  account  for  the  smoke  and  smell  of  burning,  I  opened 
the  door,  and  to  my  dismay  found  the  stove  red  hot,  from  the 
front  plate  to  the  topmost  pipe  that  let  out  the  smoke  through 
the  roof. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  plunge  a  blanket,  snatched  from 
the  servant's  bed,  which  stood  in  the  kitchen,  into  cold  water. 
This  I  thrust  into  the  stove,  and  upon  it  I  threw  water,  until 
all  was  cool  below.  I  then  ran  up  to  the  loft,  and  by  exhaust 
ing  all  the  water  in  the  house,  even  to  that  contained  in  the 


THE  FIRE.  125 

boileis  upon  the  fire,  contrived  to  cool  down  the  pipes  which 
passed  through  the  loft.  I  then  sent  the  girl  out  of  doors  to 
look  at  the  roof,  which,  as  a  very  deep  fall  of  snow  had  taken 
place  the  day  before,  I  hoped  would  be  completely  covered, 
and  safe  from  all  danger  of  fire. 

She  quickly  returned,  stamping  and  tearing  her  hair,  and 
making  a  variety  of  uncouth  outcries,  from  which  I  gathered 
that  the  roof  was  in  flames. 

This  was  terrible  news,  with  my  husband  absent,  no  man 
in  the  house,  and  a  mile  and  a  quarter  from  any  other  habita 
tion.  I  ran  out  to  ascertain  the  extent  of  the  misfortune,  and 
found  a  large  fire  burning  in  the  roof  between  the  two  stone 
pipes.  The  heat  of  the  fires  had  melted  off  all  the  snow,  and 
a  spark  from  the  burning  pipe  had  already  ignited  the  shingles. 
A  ladder,  which  for  several  months  had  stood  against  the 
house,  had  been  moved  two  days  before  to  the  barn,  which 
was  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  near  the  road  ;  there  was  no  reach 
ing  the  fire  through  that  source.  I  got  out  the  dining-table, 
and  tried  to  throw  water  upon  the  roof  by  standing  on  a  chair 
placed  upon  it,  but  I  only  expended  the  little  water  that  re 
mained  in  the  boiler,  without  reaching  the  fire.  The  girl  still 
continued  weeping  and  lamenting. 

"  You  must  go  for  help,"  I  said.  "  Run  as  fast  as  you  can 
to  my  sister's,  and  fetch  your  master." 

"  And  lave  you,  ma'arm,  and  the  childher  alone  wid  the 
burnin'  house?" 

"  Yes,  yes  !     Don't  stay  one  moment." 

"  I  have  no  shoes,  ma'arm,  and  the  snow  is  so  deep." 

"  Put  on  your  master's  boots  ;  make  haste,  or  we  shall  be 
lost  before  help  comes." 

The  girl  put  on  the  boots  and  started,  shrieking  "  Fire  !" 
the  whole  way.  This  was  utterly  useless,  and  only  impeded 
her  progress  by  exhausting  her  strength.  After  she  had  van-. 


126         •  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

ished  from  the  head  of  the  clearing  into  the  wood,  and  I  was 
left  quite  alone,  with  the  house  burning  over  my  head,  I 
paused  one  moment  to  reflect  what  had  best  be  done. 

The  house  was  built  of  cedar  logs ;  in  all  probability  it 
would  be  consumed  before  any  help  could  arrive.  There 
was  a  brisk  breeze  blowing  up  from  the  frozen  lake,  and  the 
thermometer  stood  at  eighteen  degrees  below  zero.  We  were 
placed  between  the  two  extremes  of  heat  and  cold,  and  there 
was  as  much  danger  to  be  apprehended  from  the  one  as  the 
other.  In  the  bewilderment  of  the  moment,  the  direful  ex 
tent  of  the  calamity  never  struck  me :  we  wanted  but  this  to 
put  the  finishing  stroke  to  our  misfortunes,  to  be  thrown  naked, 
houseless,  and  penniless,  upon  the  world.  "  What  shall  I  save 
first  ?n  was  the  thought  just  then  uppermost  in  my  mind. 
Bedding  and  clothing  appeared  the  most  essentially  necessary, 
and  without  another  moment's  pause,  I  set  to  work  with  a 
right  good  will  to  drag  all  that  I  could  from  my  burning 
home. 

While  little  Agnes,  Dunbar,  and  baby  Donald  filled  the 
air  with  their  cries,  Katie,  as  if  fully  conscious  of  the  impor 
tance  of  exertion,  assisted  me  in  carrying  out  sheets  and  blan 
kets,  and  dragging  trunks  and  boxes  some  way  up  the  hill,  to 
be  out  of  the  way  of  the  burning  brands  when  the  roof  should 
fall  in. 

How  many  anxious  looks  I  gave  to  the  head  of  the  clearing 
as  the  fire  increased,  and  large  pieces  of  burning  pine  began 
to  fall  through  the  boarded  ceiling,  about  the  lower  rooms 
where  we  were  at  work.  The  children  I  had  kept  under  a 
large  dresser  in  the  kitchen,  but  it  now  appeared  absolutely 
necessary  to  remove  them  to  a  place  of  safety.  To  expose 
the  young,  tender  things  to  the  direful  cold  was  almost  as  bad 
as  leaving  them  to  the  mercy  of  the  fire.  At  last  I  hit  upon 
a  plan  to  keep  them  from  freezing.  I  emptied  all  the  clothes 


THE  FIRE.  127 

out  of  a  large,  deep  chest  of  drawers,  and  dragged  the  empty 
drawers  up  the  hill ;  these  I  lined  with  blankets,  and  placed  a 
child  in  each  drawer,  covering  it  well  over  with  the  bedding, 
giving  to  little  Agnes  the  charge  of  the  baby  to  hold  between 
her  knees,  and  keep  well  covered  until  help  should  arrive. 
Ah,  how  long  it  seemed  coming  ! 

The  roof  was  now  burning  like  a  brush-heap,  and,  uncon 
sciously,  the  child  and  I  were  working  under  a  shelf,  upon 
which  were  deposited  several  pounds  of  gunpowder  which  had 
been  procured  for  blasting  a  well,  as  all  our  water  had  to  be 
brought  up-hill  from  the  lake.  This  gunpowder  was  in  a 
stone  jar,  secured  by  a  paper  stopper  ;  the  shelf  upon  which 
it  stood  was  on  fire,  but  it  was  utterly  forgotten  by  me  at  the 
time  ;  and  even  afterwards,  when  my  husband  was  working 
on  the  burning  loft  over  it. 

I  found  that  I  should  not  be  able  to  take  many  more  trips 
for  goods.  As  I  passed  out  of  the  parlour  for  the  last  time, 
Katie  looked  up  at  her  father's  flute,  which  was  suspended 
upon  two  brackets,  and  said, 

"  Oh,  dear  mamma !  do  save  papa's  flute ;  he  will  be  so 
sorry  to  lose  it." 

God  bless  the  dear  child  for  the  thought !  the  flute  was 
saved  ;  and,  as  I  succeeded  in  dragging  out  a  heavy  chest  of 
clothes,  and  looked  up  once  more  despairingly  to  the  road,  I 
saw  a  man  running  at  full  speed.  It  was  my  husband.  Help 
was  at  hand,  and  my  heart  uttered  a  deep  thanksgiving  as 
another  and  another  figure  came  upon  the  scene. 

I  had  not  felt  the  intense  cold,  although  without  cap,  or 
bonnet,  or  shawl ;  with  my  hands  bare  and  exposed  to  the 
bitter,  biting  air.  The  intense  excitement,  the  anxiety  to  save 
all  I  could,  had  so  totally  diverted  my  thoughts  from  myself, 
that  I  had  felt  nothing  of  the  danger  to  which  I  had  been 
exposed ;  but  now  that  help  was  near,  my  knees  trembled 


128  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

under  me,  I  felt  giddy  and  faint,  and  dark  shadows  seemed 
dancing  before  my  eyes. 

The  moment  my  husband  and  brother-in-law  entered  the 
house,  the  latter  exclaimed, 

"  Moodie,  the  house  is  gone  ;  save  what  you  can  of  your 
winter  stores  and  furniture." 

Moodie  thought  differently.  Prompt  and  energetic  in  dan 
ger,  and  possessing  admirable  presence  of  mind  and  coolness 
when  others  yield  to  agitation  and  despair,  he  sprang  upon 
the  burning  loft  and  called  for  water.  Alas,  there  was  none ! 

"  Snow,  snow ;  hand  me  up  pailfuls  of  snow  !" 

Oh !  it  was  bitter  work  filling  those  pails  with  frozen  snow ; 
but  Mr.  T and  I  worked  at  it  as  fast  as  we  were  able. 

The  violence  of  the  fire  was  greatly  checked  by  covering 
the  boards  of  the  loft  with  this  snow.  More  help  had  now 

arrived.  Young  B and  S had  brought  the  ladder 

down  with  them  from  the  barn,  and  were  already  cutting 
away  the  burning  roof,  and  flinging  the  flaming  brands  into 
the  deep  snow. 

M  Mrs.  Moodie,  have  you  any  pickled  meat T' 

"  We  have  just  killed  one  of  our  cows,  and  salted  it  for 
winter  stores." 

"  Well,  then,  fling  the  beef  into  the  snow,  and  let  us  have 
the  brine." 

This  was  an  admirable  plan.  Wherever  the  brine  wetted 
the  shingles,  the  fire  turned  from  it,  and  concentrated  into  one 
spot. 

But  I  had  not  time  to  watch  the  brave  workers  on  the 
roof.  I  was  fast  yielding  to  the  effects  of  over-excitement 
and  fatigue,  when  my  brother's  team  dashed  down  the  clear 
ing,  bringing  my  excellent  old  friend,  Miss  B ,  and  the 

servant-girl. 

My  brother  sprang  out,  carried  me  back  into  the  house^ 


THE  FIRK  129 

and  wrapped  me  up  in  one  of  the  large  blankets  scattered 
about.  In  a  few  minutes  I  was  seated  with  the  dear  children 
in  the  sleigh,  and  on  the  way  to  a  place  of  warmth  and  safety. 
Katie  alone  suffered  from  the  intense  cold.  The  dear  little 
creature's  feet  were  severely  frozen,  but  were  fortunately  re 
stored  by  her  uncle  discovering  the  fact  before  she  approached 
the  fire,  and  rubbing  them  well  with  snow.  In  the  mean 
while,  the  friends  we  had  left  so  actively  employed  at  the 
house  succeeded  in  getting  the  fire  under  before  it  had  de 
stroyed  the  walls.  The  only  accident  that  occurred  was  to  a 
poor  dog,  that  Moodie  had  called  Snarl eyowe.  He  was  struck 
by  a  burning  brand  thrown  from  the  house,  and  crept  under 
the  barn  and  died. 

Beyond  the  damage  done  to  the  building,  the  loss  of  our 
potatoes  and  two  sacks  of  flour,  we  had  escaped  in  a  manner 
almost  miraculous.  This  fact  shows  how  much  can  be  done 
by  persons  working  in  union,  without  bustle  and  confusion,  or 
running  in  each  other's  way.  Here  were  six  men,  who,  with 
out  the  aid  of  water,  succeeded  in  saving  a  building,  which, 
at  first  sight,  almost  all  of  them  had  deemed  past  hope.  In 
after  years,  when  entirely  burnt  out  in  a  disastrous  fire  that 
consumed  almost  all  we  were  worth  in  the  world,  some  four 
hundred  persons  were  present,  with  a  fire-engine  to  second 
their  endeavours,  yet  all  was  lost.  Every  person  seemed  in 
the  way ;  and  though  the  fire  was  discovered  immediately 
after  it  took  place,  nothing  was  done  beyond  saving  some  of 
the  furniture. 

Our  party  was  too  large  to  be  billetted  upon  one  family. 

Mrs.  T took  compassion  upon  Moodie,  myself,  and  the 

baby,  while  their  uncle  received  the  three  children  to  his  hos 
pitable  home. 

It  was  some  weeks  before  Moodie  succeeded  in  repairing 
the  roof,  the  intense  cold  preventing  any  one  from  working  in 

VOL.  II.  6* 


130  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

such  an  exposed  situation.  The  news  of  our  fire  travelled  far 
and  wide.  I  was  reported  to  have  done  prodigies,  and  to  have 
saved  the  greater  part  of  our  household  goods  before  help  ar 
rived.  Reduced  to  plain  prose,  these  prodigies  shrink  into  the 
simple,  and  by  no  means  marvellous  fact,  that  during  the  ex 
citement  I  dragged  out  chests  which,  under  ordinary  circum 
stances,  I  could  not  have  moved ;  and  that  I  was  unconscious 
both  of  the  cold  and  the  danger  to  which  I  was  exposed  while 
working  under  a  burning  roof,  which,  had  it  fallen,  would  have 
buried  both  the  children  and  myself  under  its  ruins.  These 
circumstances  appeared  far  more  alarming,  as  all  real  danger 
does,  after  they  were  past.  The  fright  and  over-exertion  gave 
my  health  a  shock  from  which  I  did  not  recover  for  several 
months,  and  made  me  so  fearful  of  fire,  that  from  that  hour  it 
haunts  me  like  a  nightmare.  Let  the  night  be  ever  so  serene, 
all  stoves  must  be  shut  up,  and  the  hot  embers  covered  with 
ashes,  before  I  dare  retire  to  rest ;  and  the  sight  of  a  burning 
edifice,  so  common  a  spectacle  in  large  towns  in  this  country, 
makes  me  really  ill.  This  feeling  was  greatly  increased  after 
a  second  fire,  when,  for  some  torturing  minutes,  a  lovely  boy, 
since  drowned,  was  supposed  to  have  perished  in  the  burning 
house. 

Our  present  fire  led  to  a  new  train  of  circumstances,  for  it 
was  the  means  of  introducing  to  Moodie  a  young  Irish  gentle 
man,  who  was  staying  at  my  brother's  house.  John  E 

was  one  of  the  best  and  gentlest  of  human  beings.  His  father, 
a  captain  in  the  army,  had  died  while  his  family  were  quite 
young,  and  had  left  his  widow  with  scarcely  any  means  be 
yond  the  pension  she  received  at  her  husband's  death,  to  bring 
up  and  educate  a  family  of  five  children.  A  handsome,  showy 

woman,  Mrs.  E soon  married  again ;  and  the  poor  lads 

were  thrown  upon  the  world.  The  eldest,  who  had  been  edu 
cated  for  the  Church,  first  came  to  Canada  in  the  hope  of  get- 


THE  I7RK  181 

ting  some  professorship  in  the  college,  or  of  opening  a  classi 
cal  school.  He  was  a  handsome,  gentlemanly,  well-educated 
young  man,  but  constitutionally  indolent — a  natural  defect 
which  seemed  common  to  all  the  males  of  the  family,  and 
which  was  sufficiently  indicated  by  their  soft,  silky,  fair  hair 
and  milky  complexion.  E had  the  good  sense  to  per 
ceive  that  Canada  was  not  the  country  for  him.  -  He  spent  a 
week  under  our  roof,  and  we  were  much  pleased  with  his  ele 
gant  tastes  and  pursuits ;  but  my  husband  strongly  advised 
him  to  try  and  get  a  situation  as  a  tutor  in  some  family  at 
home.  This  he  afterwards  obtained.  He  became  tutor  and 

travelling  companion  to  the  young  Lord  M ;  and  has 

since  got  an  excellent  living. 

John,  who  had  followed  his  brother  to  Canada  without  the 
means  of  transporting  himself  back  again,  was  forced  to  re 
main,  and  was  working  with  Mr.  S for  his  board.  He 

proposed  to  Moodie  working  his  farm  upon  shares ;  and  as  we 
were  unable  to  hire  a  man,  Moodie  gladly  closed  with  his 
offer ;  and,  during  the  time  he  remained  with  us,  we  had  every 
reason  to  be  pleased  with  the  arrangement.  It  was  always  a 
humiliating  feeling  to  our  proud  minds,  that  hirelings  should 
witness  our  dreadful  struggles  with  poverty,  and  the  strange 
shifts  we  were  forced  to  make  in  order  to  obtain  even  food. 

But  John  E had  known  and  experienced  all  that  we  had 

suffered,  in  his  own  person,  and  was  willing  to  share  our  home 
with  all  its  privations.  Warm-hearted,  sincere,  and  truly 
affectionate — a  gentleman  in  word,  thought,  and  deed — we 
found  his  society  and  cheerful  help  a  great  comfort.  Our  odd 
meals  became  a  subject  of  merriment,  and  the  peppermint  and 
sage  tea  drank  with  a  better  flavour  when  we  had  one  who 
sympathized  in  all  our  trials,  and  shared  all  our  toils,  to  par- 
take  of  it  with  us. 

The  whole  family  soon  became  attached  to  our  young 


132  ROUGHING  IT  IN  TEE  BUSH. 

friend ;  and  after  the  work  of  the  day  was  over,  greatly  we 
enjoyed  an  hour's  fishing  on  the  lake.  John  E — —  said  that 
we  had  no  right  to  murmur,  as  long  as  we  had  health,  a  happy 
home,  and  plenty  of  fresh  fish,  milk,  and  potatoes.  Early  in 
May,  we  received  an  old  Irishwoman  into  our  service,  who 
for  four  years  proved  a  most  faithful  and  industrious  creature. 

And  what  with  John  E to  assist  my  husband  on  the  farm, 

and  old  Jenny  to  help  me  to  nurse  the  children,  and  manage 
the  house,  our  affairs,  if  they  were  no  better  in  a  pecuniary 
point  of  view,  at  least  presented  a  more  pleasing  aspect  at 
home.  We  were  always  cheerful,  and  sometimes  contented 
and  even  happy. 

How  great  was  the  contrast  between  the  character  of  our 
new  inmate  and  that  of  Mr.  Malcolm  !  The  sufferings  of  the 
past  year  had  been  greatly  increased  by  the  intolerable  nui 
sance  of  his  company,  while  many  additional  debts  had  been 
contracted  in  order  to  obtain  luxuries  for  him  which  we  never 
dreamed  of  purchasing  for  ourselves.  Instead  of  increasing 
my  domestic  toils,  John  did  all  in  his  power  to  lessen  them  ; 
and  it  always  grieved  him  to  see  me  iron  a  shirt,  or  wash  the 
least  article  of  clothing  for  him.  "  You  have  too  much,  to  do 
already ;  I  cannot  bear  to  give  you  the  least  additional  work," 
he  would  say.  And  he  generally  expressed  the  greatest  satis 
faction  at  my  method  of  managing  the  house,  and  preparing 
our  simple  fare.  The  little  ones  he  treated  with  the  most 
affectionate  kindness,  and  gathered  the  whole  flock  about  his 
knees  the  moment  he  came  in  to  his  meals. 

On  a  wet  day,  when  no  work  could  be  done  abroad, 
Moodie  took  up  his  flute,  or  read  aloud  tc  us,  while  John  and 
I  sat  down  to  work.  The  young  emigrant,  early  cast  upon 
the  world  and  his  own  resources,  was  an  excellent  hand  at  the 
needle.  He  would  make  or  mend  a  shirt  with  the  greatest 
precision  and  neatness,  and  cut  out  and  manufacture  his  canvas 


THE  FIRE.  133 

trowsers  and  loose  summer-coats  with  as  much  adroitness  as 
the  most  experienced  tailor ;  darn  his  socks,  and  mend  his 
boots  and  shoes,  and  often  volunteered  to  assist  me  in  knitting 
the  coarse  yarn  of  the  country  into  socks  for  the  children, 
while  he  made  them  moccasins  from  the  dressed  deer-skins 
that  we  obtained  from  the  Indians.  Scrupulously  neat  and 
clean  in  his  person,  the  only  thing  which  seemed  to  ruffle  his 
calm  temper  was  the  dirty  work  of  logging ;  he  hated  to  come 
in  from  the  field  with  his  person  and  clothes  begrimed  with 
charcoal  and  smoke.  Old  Jenny  used  to  laugh  at  him  for 
not  being  able  to  eat  his  meals  without  first  washing  his  hands 
and  face. 

"  Och  !  my  dear  heart,  yer  too  particular  intirely  ;  we've 
no  time  in  the  woods  to  be  clane."  She  would  say  to  him, 
in  answer  to  his  request  for  soap  and  a  towel,  "  An'  is  it  soap 
yer  a  wantin'  ?  I  tell  yer  that  "that  same  is  not  to  the  fore ; 
bating  the  throuble  of  making,  it's  little  soap  that  the  mis- 
thress  can  get  to  wash  the  clothes  for  us  and  the  childher, 
widout  yer  wastin'  it  in  makin'  yer  purty  skin  as  white  as  a 
leddy's.  Do,  darlint,  go  down  to  the  lake  and  wash  there ; 
that  basin  is  big  enough,  any  how."  And  John  would 
laugh,  and  go  down  to  the  lake  to  wash,  in  order  to  appease 
the  wrath  of  the  old  woman.  John  had  a  great  dislike  to 
cats,  and  even  regarded  with  an  evil  eye  our  old  pet  cat, 
Peppermint,  who  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  share  his  bed 
and  board. 

"  If  I  tolerate  our  own  cat,"  he  would  say,  "  I  will  not  put 
up  with  such  a  nuisance  as  your  friend  Emilia  sends  us  in  the 
shape  of  her  ugly  Tom.  Why,  where  in  the  world  do  you 
think  I  found  that  beast  sleeping  last  night  T' 

I  expressed  my  ignorance. 

"  In  our  potato-pot.  Now,  you  will  agree  with  me  that 
potatoes  dressed  with  cat's  hair  is  not  a  very  nice  dish.  The 


134  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BVSB. 

next  time  I  catch  Master  Tom  in  the  potato-pot,  I  will  kill 
him." 

"  John,  you  are  not  in  earnest.  Mrs. would  never 

forgive  any  injury  done  to  Tom,  who  is  a  great  favourite." 

"  Let  her  keep  him  at  home,  then.  Think  of  the  brute  com 
ing  a  mile  through  the  woods  to  steal  from  us  all  he  can  find, 
and  then  sleeping  off  the  effects  of  his  depredations  in  the 
potato-pot." 

I  could  not  help  laughing,  but  I  begged  John  by  no  means 
to  annoy  Emilia  by  hurting  her  cat. 

The  next  day,  while  sitting  in  the  parlour  at  work,  I  heard 
a  dreadful  squall,  and  rushed  to  the  rescue.  John  was  stand 
ing,  with  a  flushed  cheek,  grasping  a  large  stick  in  his  hand, 
and  Tom  was  lying  dead  at  his  feet. 

"  Oh,  the  poor  cat !" 

"  Yes,  I  have  killed  him  ;  but  I  am  sorry  for  it  now.  What 
will  Mrs. say  ?" 

"  She  must  not  know  it.  I  have  told  you  the  story  of  the 
pig  that  Jacob  killed.  You  had  better  bury  it  with  the  pig." 

John  was  really  sorry  for  having  yielded,  in  a  fit  of  pas 
sion,  to  do  so  cruel  a  thing  ;  yet  a  few  days  after  he  got  into 
a  fresh  scrape  with  Mrs. 's  animals. 

The  hens  were  laying,  up  at  the  barn.  John  was  very 
fond  of  fresh  eggs,  but  some  strange  dog  came  daily  and 
sucked  the  eggs.  John  had  vowed  to  kill  the  first  dog  he 

found  in  the  act.  Mr. had  a  very  fine  bull-dog,  which 

he  valued  very  highly ;  but  with  Emilia,  Chowder  was  an 
especial  favourite.  Bitterly  had  she  bemoaned  the  fate  of 
Tom,  and  many  were  the  inquiries  she  made  of  us  as  to  his 
sudden  disappearance. 

One  afternoon  John  ran  into  the  room.  "My  dear  Mrs. 
Moodie,  what  is  Mrs. 's  dog  like  1" 

"  A  large  bull-dog,  brindled  black  and  white." 


TSE  FIXE.  135 

"  Then,  by  Jove,  I've  shot  him !" 

"John,  John!  you  mean  me  to  quarrel  in  earnest  with 
my  friend.  How  could  you  do  it  ?" 

"  Why,  how  the  deuce  should  I  know  her  dog  from  an 
other  1  I  caught  the  big  thief  in  the  very  act  of  devouring 
the  eggs  from  under  your  sitting  hen,  and  I  shot  him  dead 
without  another  thought.  But  I  will  bury  him,  and  she  will 
never  find  it  out  a  bit  more  than  she  did  who  killed  the  cat." 

Some  time  after  this,  Emilia  returned  from  a  visit  at 

P .  The  first  thing  she  told  me  was  the  loss  of  the  dog. 

She  was  so  vexed  at  it,  she  had  had  him  advertised,  offering  a 
reward  for  his  recovery.  I,  of  course,  was  called  upon  to 
sympathize  with  her,  which  I  did  with  a  very  bad  grace.  "  I 
did  not  like  the  beast,"  I  said ;  "  he  was  cross  and  fierce,  and 
I  was  afraid  to  go  up  to  her  house  while  he  was  there." 

"  Yes ;  but  to  lose  him  so.  It  is  so  provoking ;  and  him 
such  a  valuable  animal.  I  could  not  tell  how  deeply  she  felt 
the  loss.  She  would  give  four  dollars  to  find  out  who  had 
stolen  him." 

How  near  she  came  to  making  the  grand  discovery  the 
sequel  will  show. 

Instead  of  burying  him  with  the  murdered  pig  and  cat, 
John  had  scratched  a  shallow  grave  in  the  garden,  and  con~ 
cealed  the  dead  brute. 

After  tea,  Emilia  requested  to  look  at  the  garden ;  and  I, 
perfectly  unconscious  that  it  contained  the  remains  of  the 

murdered  Chowder,  led  the  way.  Mrs. ,  whilst  gathering 

a  handful  of  fine  green  peas,  suddenly  stooped,  and  looking 
earnestly  at  the  ground,  called  to  me. 

"  Come  here,  Susanna,  and  tell  me  what  has  been  buried 
here.  It  looks  like  the  tail  of  a  dog." 

She  might  have  added,  "  of  my  dog."  Murder,  it  seems, 
will  out.  By  some  strange  chance,  the  grave  that  covered 


136  HOUGHING  -IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

the  mortal  remains  of  Chowder  had  been  disturbed,  and  the 
black  tail  of  the  dog  was  sticking  out. 

"  What  can  it  be  7"  said  I,  with  an  air  of  perfect  innocence. 
"  Shall  I  call  Jenny,  and  dig  it  up  f 

"  Oh,  no,  my  dear ;  it  has  a  shocking  smell,  but  it  does  look 
very  much  like  Chowder's  tail." 

"  Impossible !     How  could  it  come  among  my  peas  ?" 

"True.  Besides,  I  saw  Chowder,  with  my  own  eyes 
yesterday,  following  a  team ;  and  George  C hopes  to  re 
cover  him  for  me." 

"  Indeed !  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  How  these  mosquitoes 
sting.  Shall  we  go  back  to  the  house  ?" 

While  we  returned  to  the  house,  John,  who  had  overheard 
the  whole  conversation,  hastily  disinterred  the  body  of  Chow 
der,  and  placed  him  in  the  same  mysterious  grave  with  Tom 
and  the  pig.  Moodie  and  his  friend  finished  logging-up  the 
eight  acres  which  the  former  had  cleared  the  previous  winter ; 
besides  putting  in  a  crop  of  peas  and  potatoes,  and  an  acre  of 
Indian  corn,  reserving  the  fallow  for  fall  wheat ;  while  we  had 
the  promise  of  a  splendid  crop  of  hay  off  the  sixteen  acres 
that  had  been  cleared  in  1834.  We  were  all  in  high  spirits, 
and  every  thing  promised  fair,  until  a  very  trifling  circum 
stance  again  occasioned  us  much  anxiety  and  trouble,  and  was 
the  cause  of  our  losing  most  of  our  crop. 

Moodie  was  asked  to  attend  a  bee,  which  was  called  to 
construct  a  corduroy  bridge  over  a  very  bad  piece  of  road. 

He  and  J.  E were   obliged  to  go  that  morning  with 

wheat  to  the  mill,  but  Moodie  lent  his  yoke  of  oxen  for  the 
work. 

The  driver  selected  for  them  at  the  bee  was  the  brutal 

M y,  a  savage  Irishman,  noted  for  his   ill-treatment  of 

cattle,  especially  if  the  animals  did  not  belong  to  him.     He 
gave  one  of  the  oxen  such  a  severe  blow  over  the  loins  with 


THE  FIRE,  137 

a  handspike  that  the  creature  came  home  perfectly  disabled, 
just  as  we  wanted  his  services  in  the  hay-field  and  har 
vest. 

Moodie  had  no  money  to  purchase,  or  even  to  hire,  a  mate 
for  the  other  ox ;  but  he  and  John  hoped  that  by  careful  at 
tendance  upon  the  injured  animal  he  might  be  restored  to 
health  in  a  few  days.  They  conveyed  him  to  a  deserted 
clearing,  a  short  distance  from  the  farm,  where  he  would  be 
safe  from  injury  from  the  rest  of  the  cattle ;  and  early  every 
morning  we  went  in  the  canoe  to  carry  poor  Duke  a  warm 
mash,  and  to  watch  the  progress  of  his  recovery. 

Ah,  ye  who  revel  in  this  world's  wealth,  how  little  can  you 
realize  the  importance  winch  we,  in  our  poverty,  attached  to 
the  life  of  this  valuable  animal !  Yes,  it  even  became  the 
subject  of  prayer,  for  the  bread  for  ourselves  and  our  little 
ones  depended  greatly  upon  his  recovery.  We  were  doomed 
to  disappointment.  After  nursing  him  with  the  greatest  at 
tention  and  care  for  some  weeks,  the  animal  grew  daily  worse, 
and  suffered  such  intense  agony,  as  he  lay 'groaning  upon  the 
ground,  unable  to  rise,  that  John  shot  him  to  put  him  out  of 
pain. 

Here,  then,  were  we  left  without  oxen  to  draw  in  our  hay, 
or  secure  our  other  crops.  A  neighbour,  who  had  an  odd  ox, 
kindly  lent  us  the  use  of  him,  when  he  was  not  employed  on 
his  own  farm ;  and  John  and  Moodie  gave  their  own  work  for 
the  occasional  loan  of  a  yoke  of  oxen  for  a  day.  But  with  all 
these  drawbacks,  and  in  spiie  of  the  assistance  of  old  Jenny 
and  myself  in  the  field,  a  great  deal  of  the  produce  was 
damaged  before  it  could  be  secured.  The  whole  summer  we 
had  to  labour  under  this  disadvantage.  Our  neighbours  were 
all  too  busy  to  give  us  any  help,  and  their  own  teams  were 
employed  in  saving  their  crops.  Fortunately,  the  few  acres 
of  wheat  we  had  to  reap  were  close  to  the  barn,  and  we  car- 


138  it  o  uaniNG-  IT  ijy  THE  s  USH. 

ried  the  sheaves  thither  by  hand;  old  Jenny  proving  an 
invaluable  help,  both  in  the  harvest  and  hay  field. 

Still,  with  all  these  misfortunes,  Providence  watched  over 
us  in  a  signal  manner.  We  were  never  left  entirely  without 
food.  Like  the  widow's  cruise  of  oil,  our  means,  though 
small,  were  never  suffered  to  cease  entirely.  We  had  been 
for  some  days  without  meat,  when  Moodie  came  running  in 
for  his  gun.  A  great  she-bear  was  in  the  wheat-field  at  the 
edge  of  the  wood,  very  busily  employed  in  helping  to  harvest ' 
the  crop.  There  was  but  one  bullet,  and  a  charge  or  two  of 
buck-shot,  in  the  house ;  but  Moodie  started  to  the  wood  with 
the  single  bullet  in  his  gun,  followed  by  a  little  terrier  dog 

that  belonged  to  John  E .     Old  Jenny  was  busy  at  the 

wash-tub,  but  the  moment  she  saw  her  master  running  up  the 
clearing,  and  knew  the  cause,  she  left  her  work,  and  snatching 
up  the  carving-knife,  ran  after  him,  that  in  case  the  bear 
should  have  the  best  of  the  fight,  she  would  be  there  to  help 
"  the  masther."  Finding  her  shoes  incommode  her,  she  flung 
them»off,  in  order  to  run  faster.  A  few  minutes  after,  came 

the  report  of  the  gun,  and  I  heard  Moodie  halloo  to  E , 

who  was  cutting  stakes  for  a  fence  in  the  wood.  I  hardly 
thought  it  possible  that  he  could  have  killed  the  bear,  but  I 
ran  to  the  door  to  listen.  The  children  were  all  excitement, 
which  the  sight  of  the  black  monster,  borne  down  the  clearing 
upon  two  poles,  increased  to  the  wildest  demonstrations  of 
joy.  Moodie  and  John  were  carrying  the  prize,  and  old 
Jenny,  brandishing  her  carving-knife,  followed  in  the  rear. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  was  spent  in  skinning  and  cutting 
up  and  salting  the  ugly  creature,  whose  flesh  filled  a  barrel 
with  excellent  meat,  in  flavour  resembling  beef,  while  the 
short  grain  and  juicy  nature  of  the  flesh  gave  to  it  the  tender 
ness  of  mutton.  This  was  quite  a  Godsend,  and  lasted  us 
until  we  were  able  to  kill  two  large,  fat  hogs,  in  the  fall. 


THE  FIRE.  139 

A  few  nights  after,  Moodie  and  I  encountered  the  mate  of 
Mrs.  Bruin,  while  returning  from  a  visit  to  Emilia,  in  the  very- 
depth  of  the  wood. 

We  had  been  invited  to  meet  our  friend's  father  and 
mother,  who  had  come  up  on  a  short  visit  to  the  woods ;  and 
the  evening  passed  away  so  pleasantly  that  it  was  near  mid 
night  before  the  little  party  of  friends  separated.  The  moon 
was  down.  The  wood,  through  which  we  had  to  return,  was 
very  dark ;  the  ground  being  low  and  swampy,  and  the  trees 
thick  and  tall.  There  was,  in  particular,  one  very  ugly  spot, 
where  a  small  creek  crossed  the  road.  This  creek  could  only 
be  passed  by  foot-passengers  scrambling  over  a  fallen  tree, 
which,  in  a  dark  night,  was  not  very  easy  to  find.  I  begged 

a  torch  of  Mr.  M ;  but  no  torch  could  be  found.  Emilia 

laughed  at  my  fears ;  still,  knowing  what  a  coward  I  was  in 
the  bush  of  a  night,  she  found  up  about  an  inch  of  candle, 
which  was  all  that  remained  from  the  evening's  entertainment. 
This  she  put  into  an  old  lantern. 

"  It  will  not  last  you  long ;  but  it  will  carry  you  over  the 
creek." 

This  was  something  gained,  and  off  we  set.  It  was  so  dark 
in  the  bush,  that  our  dim  candle  looked  like  a  solitary  red 
spark  in  the  intense  surrounding  darkness,  and  scarcely  served 
to  show  us  the  path.  We  went  chatting  along,  talking  over 
the  news  of  the  evening,  Hector  running  on  before  us,  when 
I  saw  a  pair  of  eyes  glare  upon  us  from  the  edge  of  the 
swamp,  with  the  green,  bright  light  emitted  by  the  eyes  of 
a  cat. 

"  Did  you  see  those  terrible  eyes,  Moodie  ?"  and  I  clung, 
trembling,  to  his  arm. 

"What  eyesf'  said  he,  feigning  ignorance.  "It's  too 
dark  to  see  any  thing.  The  light  is  nearly  gone,  and,  if  you 
don't  quicken  your  pace,  and  cross  the  tree  before  it  goes 


140  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

out,  you  will,  perhaps,  get  your  feet  wet  by  falling  into  the 
creek." 

"  Good  heavens  !  I  saw  them  again ;  and  do  just  look  at 
the  dog." 

Hector  stopped  suddenly,  and,  stretching  himself  along  the 
ground,  his  nose  resting  between  his  fore-paws,  began  to  whine 
and  tremble.  Presently  he  ran  back  to  us,  and  crept  under 
our  feet.  The  cracking  of  branches,  and  the  heavy  tread  of 
some  large  animal,  sounded  close  beside  us. 

Moodie  turned  the  open  lantern  in  the  direction  from 
whence  the  sounds  came,  and  shouted  as  loud  as  he  could,  at 
the  same  time  endeavouring  to  urge  forward  the  fear-stricken 
dog,  whose  cowardice  was  only  equalled  by  m'y  own. 

Just  at  that  critical  moment  the  wick  of  the  candle  flick 
ered  a  moment  in  the  socket,  and  expired.  We  were  left,  in 
perfect  darkness,  alone  with  the  bear — for  such  we  supposed 
the  animal  to  be. 

My  heart  beat  audibly ;  a  cold  perspiration  was  streaming 
down  my  face,  but  I  neither  shrieked  nor  attempted  to  run. 
I  don't  know  how  Moodie  got  me  over  the  creek.  One  of 
my  feet  slipped  into  the  water,  but,  expecting,  as  I  did  every 
moment,  to  be  devoured  by  master  Bruin,  that  was  a  thing 
of  no  consequence.  My  husband  was  laughing  at  my  fears, 
and  every  now  and  then  he  turned  towards  our  companion, 
who  continued  following  us  at  no  great  distance,  and  gave  him 
an  encouraging  shout.  Glad  enough  was  I  when  I  saw  the 
gleam  of  the  light  from  our  little  cabin  window  shine  out 
among  the  trees ;  and,  the  moment  I  got  within  the  clearing, 
I  ran,  without  stopping  until  I  was  safely  within  the  house. 
John  was  sitting  up  for  us,  nursing  Donald.  He  listened 
with  great  interest  to  our  adventure  with  the  bear,  and 
thought  that  Bruin  was  very  good  to  let  us  escape  without 
one  affectionate  hug. 


THE  FIRE.  141 

"Perhaps  it  would  have  been  otherwise  had  he  known, 
Moodie,  that  you  had  not  only  killed  his  good  lady,  but  were 
dining  sumptuously  off  her  carcass  every  day." 

The  bear  was  determined  to  have  something  in  return  for 
the  loss  of  his  wife.  Several  nights  after  this,  our  slumbers 
were  disturbed,  about  midnight,  by  an  awful  yell,  and  old 
Jenny  shook  violently  at  our  chamber  door. 

"  Masther,  masther,  dear  ! — Get  up  wid  you  this  moment, 
or  the  bear  will  desthroy  the  cattle  intirely." 

Half  asleep,  Moodie  sprang  from  his  bed,  seized  his  gun, 
and  ran  out.  I  threw  my  large  cloak  round  me,  struck  a 
light,  and  followed  him  to  the  door.  The  moment  the  latter 
was  unclosed,  some  calves  that  we  were  rearing  rushed  into 
the  kitchen,  closely  followed  by  the  larger  beasts,  who  came 
bellowing  headlong  down  the  hill,  pursued  by  the  bear. 

It  was  a  laughable  scene,  as  shown  by  that  paltry  tallow- 
candle.  Moodie,  in  his  night-shirt,  taking  aim  at  something 
in  the  darkness,  surrounded  by  the  terrified  animals  ;  old 
Jenny,  with  a  large  knife  in  her  hand,  holding  on  to  the  white 
skirts  of  her  master's  garment,  making  outcry  loud  enough  to 
frighten  away  all  the  wild  beasts  in  the  bush — herself  almost 
.in  a  state  of  nudity. 

"  Och,  maisther,  dear !  don't  timpt  the  ill-conditioned  era- 
thur  wid  charging  too  near ;  think  of  the  wife  and  the  childher. 
Let  me  come  at  the  rampaging  baste,  an'  I'll  stick  the  knife 
into  the  heart  of  him." 

Moodie  fired.  The  bear  retreated  up  the  clearing,  with  a 
low  growl.  Moodie  and  Jenny  pursued  him  some  way,  but 
it  was  too  dark  to  discern  any  object  at  a  distance.  I,  for  my 
part,  stood  at  the  open  door,  laughing  until  the  tears  ran  down 
my  cheeks,  at  the  glaring  eyes  of  the  oxen,  their  ears  erect, 
and  their  tails  carried  gracefully  on  a  level  with  their  backs, 
as  they  stared  at  me  and  the  light,  in  blank  astonishment. 


142  HOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

The  noise  of  the  gun  had  just  roused  John  E from  his 

slumbers.  He  was  no  less  amused  than  myself,  until  he  saw 
that  a  fine  yearling  heifer  was  bleeding,  and  found,  upon  ex 
amination,  that  the  poor  animal,  having  been  in  the  claws  of 
the  bear,  was  dangerously,  if  not  mortally  hurt. 

"  I  hope,"  he  cried,  "  that  the  brute  has  not  touched  my 
foal !"  I  pointed  to  the  black  face  of  the  filly  peeping  over 
the  back  of  an  elderly  cow. 

"  You  see,  John,  that  Bruin  preferred  veal ;  there's  your 
*  horsey,'  as  Dunbar  calls  her,  safe,  and  laughing  at  you." 

Moodie  and  Jenny  now  returned  from  the  pursuit  of  the 

bear.  E fastened  all  the  cattle  into  the  back  yard,  close 

to  the  house.  By  daylight  he  and  Moodie  had  started  in 
chase  of  Bruin,  whom  they  tracked  by  his  blood  some  way 
into  the  bush ;  but  here  he  entirely  escaped  their  search. 


TEE  OUTBREAK.  143 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    OUTBREAK. 

long-protracted  harvest  was  at  length  brought  to  a 
J-  close.  Moodie  had  procured  another  ox  from  Dummer, 
by  giving  a  note  at  six  months'  date  for  the  payment ;  and  he 

and  John  E were  in  the  middle  of  sowing  their  fall  crop 

of  wheat,  when  the  latter  received  a  letter  from  the  old 
country,  which  conveyed  to  him  intelligence  of  the  death  of 
his  mother,  and  of  a  legacy  of  two  hundred  pounds.  It  was 
necessary  for  him  to  return  to  claim  the  property,  and  though 
we  felt  his  loss  severely,  we  could  not,  without  great  selfish 
ness,  urge  him  to  stay.  John  had  formed  an  attachment  to  a 
young  lady  in  the  country,  who,  like  himself,  possessed  no 
property.  Their  engagement,  which  had  existed  several 
years,  had  been  dropped,  from  its  utter  hopelessness,  by  mu 
tual  consent.  Still  the  young  people  continued  to  love  each 
other,  and  to  look  forward  to  better  days,  when  their  pros 
pects  might  improve  so  far  that  E would  be  able  to  pur 
chase  a  bush  farm,  and  raise  a  house,  however  lowly,  to  shel 
ter  his  Mary.  He,  like  our  friend  Malcolm,  had  taken  a 
fancy  to  buy  a  part  of  our  block  of  land,  which  he  could  culti 
vate  in  partnership  with  Moodie,  without  being  obliged  to 
hire,  when  the  same  barn,  cattle,  and  implements  would  serve 
for  both.  Anxious  to  free  himself  from  the  thraldom  of 
debts  which  pressed  him  sore,  Moodie  offered  to  part  with 
two  hundred  acres  at  less  than  they  cost  us,  and  the  bargain 


144  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

was  to  be  considered  as  concluded  directly  the  money  was 
forthcoming. 

It  was  a  sorrowful  day  when  our  young  friend  left  us ;  he 
had  been  a  constant  inmate  in  the  house  for  nine  months,  and 
not  one  unpleasant  word  had  ever  passed  between  us.  He 
had  rendered  our  sojourn  in  the  woods  more  tolerable  by  his 
society,  and  sweetened  our  bitter  lot  by  his  friendship  and 
sympathy.  We  both  regarded  him  as  a  brother,  and  parted 
with  him  with  sincere  regret.  As  to  old  Jenny,  she  lifted  up 
her  voice  and  wept,  consigning  him  to  the  care  and  protection 
of  all  the  saints  in  the  Irish  calendar.  For  several  days  after 
John  left  us,  a  deep  gloom  pervaded  the  house.  Our  daily 
toil  was  performed  with  less  cheerfulness  and  alacrity ;  we 
missed  him  at  the  evening  board,  and  at  the  evening  fire ; 
and  the  children  asked  each  day,  with  increasing  earnestness, 
when  dear  E would  return. 

Moodie  continued  sowing  his  fall  wheat.  The  task  was 
nearly  completed,  and  the  chill  October  days  were  fast  verg 
ing  upon  winter,  when  towards  the  evening  of  one  of  them  he 
contrived — I  know  not  how — to  crawl  down  from  the  field  at 
the  head  of  the  hill,  faint  and  pale,  and  in  great  pain.  He 
had  broken  the  small  bone  of  his  leg.  In  dragging,  among 
the  stumps,  the  heavy  machine  (which  is  made  in  the  form  of 
the  letter  V,  and  is  supplied  with  large  iron  teeth)  had  hitched 
upon  a  stump,  and  being  swung  off  again  by  the  motion  of  the 
oxen,  had  come  with  great  force  against  his  leg.  At  first  he 
was  struck  down,  and  for  some  time  was  unable  to  rise  ;  but 
at  length  he  contrived  to  unyoke  the  team,  and  crawled  partly 
on  his  hands  and  knees  down  the  clearing. 

What  a  sad,  melancholy  evening  that  was !  Fortune 
seemed  never  tired  of  playing  us  some  ugly  trick.  The  hope 
which  had  so  long  sustained  me  seemed  about  to  desert  me 
altogether ;  when  I  saw  him  on  whom  we  all  depended  for 


THE  OUTBREAK.  145 

subsistence,  and  whose  kindly  voice  ever  cheered  us  under  the 
pressure  of  calamity,  smitten  down  hopeless,  all  my  courage 
and  faith  in  the  goodness  of  the  Divine  Father  seemed  to  for 
sake  me,  and  I  wept  long  and  bitterly. 

The  next  morning  I  went  in  search  of  a  messenger  to  send 
to  Peterborough  for  the  doctor  ;  but  though  I  found  and  sent 
the  messenger,  the  doctor  never  came.  Perhaps  he  did  not 
like  to  incur  the  expense  of  a  fatiguing  journey  with  small" 
chance  of  obtaining  a  sufficient  remuneration. 

Our  dear  sufferer  contrived,  with  assistance,  to  bandage 
his  leg ;  and  after  the  first  week  of  rest  had  expired,  he 
amused  himself  with  making  a  pair  of  crutches,  and  in  manu 
facturing  Indian  paddles  for  the  canoe,  axe-handles,  and  yokes 
for  the  oxen.  It  was  wonderful  with  what  serenity  he  bore 
this  unexpected  affliction.  Buried  in  the  obscurity  of  those 
woods,  we  knew  nothing,  heard  nothing  of  the  political  state 
of  the  country,  and  were  little  aware  of  the  revolution  which 
was  about  to  work  a  great  change  for  us  and  for  Canada. 

The  weather  continued  remarkably  mild.  The  first  great 
snow,  which  for  years  had  ordinarily  fallen  between  the  10th 
and  15th  of  November,  still  kept  off.  November  passed  on, 
and  as  all  our  firewood  had  to  be  chopped  by  old  Jenny  du 
ring  the  lameness  of  my  husband,  I  was  truly  grateful  to  God 
for  the  continued  mildness  of  the  weather.  On  the  4th  of 
December — that  great  day  of  the  outbreak — Moodie  was  de 
termined  to  take  advantage  of  the  open  state  of  the  lake  to 

carry  a  large  grist  up  to  Y 's  mill.     I  urged  upon  him  the 

danger  of  a  man  attempting  to  manage  a  canoe  in  rapid  water, 
who  was  unable  to  stand  without  crutches ;  but  Moodie  saw 
that  the  children  would  need  bread,  and  he  was  anxious  to 
make  the  experiment. 

Finding  that  I  could  not  induce  him  to  give  up  the  journey, 
I  determined  to  go  with  him.  Old  Wittals,  who  happened  to 

VOL.   IT.  7 


146  ROUQHIXQ  IT  AY  THE  BUSH. 

come  down  that  morning,  assisted  in  placing  the  bags  of  wheat 
in  the  little  vessel,  and  helped  to  place  Moodie  at  the  stem. 
With  a  sad,  foreboding  spirit  I  assisted  to  push  off  from  the 
shore.  The  air  was  raw  and  cold,  but  our  sail  was  not  with 
out  its  pleasure.  The  lake  was  very  full  from  the  heavy  rains, 
and  the  canoe  bounded  over  the  waters  with  a  free,  springy 
motion.  A  slight  frost  had  hung  every  little  bush  and  spray 
along  the  shores  with  sparkling  crystals.  The  red  pigeon-ber 
ries,  shining  through  their  coating  of  ice,  looked  like  cornelian 
beads  set  in  silver,  and  strung  from  bush  to  bush.  We  found 
the  rapids  at  the  entrance  of  Bessikakoon  Lake  very  hard  to 
stem,  and  were  so  often  carried  back  by  the  force  of  the  water, 
that,  cold  as  the  air  was,  the  great  exertion  which  Moodie  had 
to  make  use  of  to  obtain  the  desired  object,  brought  the  perspi 
ration  out  in  big  drops  upon  his  forehead.  His  long  confine 
ment  to  the  house  and  low  diet  had  rendered  him  very  weak. 

The  old  miller  received  us  in  the  most  hearty  and  hospita 
ble  manner  ;  and  complimented  me  upon  my  courage  in  ven 
turing  upon  the  water  in  such  cold,  rough  weather.  Norah 
was  married,  but  the  kind  Betty  provided  us  an  excellent  din 
ner,  while  we  waited  for  the  grist  to  be  ground. 

It  was  near  four  o'clock  when  we  started  on  our  return. 
If  there  had  been  danger  in  going  up  the  stream,  there  was 
more  in  coming  down.  The  wind  had  changed,  the  air  was 
frosty,  keen,  and  biting,  and  Moodie's  paddle  came  up  from 
every  dip  into  the  water,  loaded  with  ice.  For  my  part,  I 
had  only  to  sit  still  at  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  as  we  floated 
rapidly  down  with  wind  and  tide.  At  the  landing  we  were 
met  by  old  Jenny,  who  had  a  long  story  to  tell  us,  of  which 
we  could  make  neither  head  nor  tail — how  some  gentleman 
had  called  during  our  absence,  and  left  a  large  paper,  all 
about  the  Queen  and  the  Yankees ;  that  there  was  war  be 
tween  Canada  and  the  States ;  that  Toronto  had  been  burnt, 


THE  OUTBREAK.  147 

and  the  governor  killed,  and  I  know  not  what  other  strange 
and  monstrous  statements.  After  much  fatigue,  Moodie 
climbed  the  hill,  and  we  were  once  more  safe  by  our  own 
fireside.  Here  we  found  the  elucidation  of  Jenny's  marvel 
lous  tales :  a  copy  of  the  Queen's  proclamation,  calling  upon 
all  loyal  gentlemen  to  join  in  putting  down  the  unnatural 
rebellion. 

A  letter  from  my  sister  explained  the  nature  of  the  out 
break,  and  the  astonishment  with  which  the  news  had  been 
received  by  all  the  settlers  in  the  bush.  My  brother  and  my 
sister's  husband  had  already  gone  off  to  join  some  of  the  nu 
merous  bands  of  gentlemen  who  were  collecting  from  all 
quarters  to  march  to  the  aid  of  Toronto,  which  it  was  said 
was  besieged  by  the  rebel  force.  She  advised  me  not  to 
suffer  Moodie  to  leave  home  in  his  present  weak  state ;  but 
the  spirit  of  my  husband  was  aroused,  he  instantly  obeyed 
what  he  considered  the  imperative  call  of  duty,  and  told  me 
to  prepare  him  a  few  necessaries,  that  he  might  be  ready  to 
start  early  in  the  morning.  Little  sleep  visited  our  eyes  that 
night.  We  talked  over  the  strange  news  for  hours ;  our  com 
ing  separation,  and  the  probability  that  if  things  were  as  bad  as 
they  appeared  to  be,  we  might  never  meet  again.  Our  affairs 
were  in  such  a  desperate  condition  that  Moodie  anticipated 
that  any  change  must  be  for  the  better ;  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  be  worse.  But  the  poor,  anxious  wife  thought  only 
of  a  parting  which  to  her  put  a  finishing  stroke  to  all  her 
misfortunes. 

Before  the  cold,  snowy  morning  broke,  we  were  all  stirring. 
The  children,  who  had  learned  that  their  father  was  preparing 
to  leave  them,  were  crying  and  clinging  round  his  knees.  His 
heart  was  too  deeply  affected  to  eat ;  the  meal  passed  over  in 
silence,  and  he  rose  to  go.  I  put  on  my  hat  and  shawl  to  ac 
company  him  through  the  wood  as  far  as  my  sister  Mrs. 


148  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  HUSH. 

T 's.  The  day  was  like  our  destiny,  cold,  dark,  and  lower 
ing.  I  gave  the  dear  invalid  his  crutches,  and  we  commenced 
our  sorrowful  walk.  Then  old  Jenny's  lamentations  burst 
forth,  as,  flinging  her  arms  round  my  husband's  neck,  she 
kissed  and  blessed  him  after  the  fashion  of  her  country. 

"  Och  hone !  och  hone  !"  she  cried,  wringing  her  hands, 
"  masther  dear,  why  will  you  lave  the  wife  and  the  childher  ? 
The  poor  crathur  is  breakin'  her  heart  intirely  at  partin'  wid 
you.  Shure  an'  the  war  is  nothin'  to  you,  that  you  must  be 
goin'  into  danger ;  an'  you  wid  a  broken  leg.  Och  hone  !  och 
hone !  come  back  to  your  home — you  will  be  kilt,  and  thin 
what  will  become  of  the  wife  and  the  wee  bairns  ?" 

Her  cries  and  lamentations  followed  us  into  the  wood.  At 
my  sister's,  Moodie  and  I  parted ;  and  with  a  heavy  heart  I 
retraced  my  steps  through  the  wood.  For  once,  I  forgot  all 
my  fears.  I  never  felt  the  cold.  Sad  tears  were  flowing  ovei 
my  cheeks ;  when  I  entered  the  house,  hope  seemed  to  have 
deserted  me,  and  for  upwards  of  an  hour  I  lay  upon  the  bed 
and  wept.  Poor  Jenny  did  her  best  to  comfort  me,  but  all  joy 
had  vanished  with  him  who  was  my  light  of  life.  Left  in  the 
most  absolute  uncertainty  as  to  the  real  state  of  public  affairs, 
I  could  on]y  conjecture  what  might  be  the  result  of  this  sud 
den  outbreak.  Several  poor  settlers  called  at  the  house  during 
the  day,  on  their  way  down  to  Peterborough ;  but  they 
brought  with  them  the  most  exaggerated  accounts.  There  had 
been  a  battle,  they  said,  with  the  rebels,  and  the  loyalists  had 
been  defeated ;  Toronto  was  besieged  by  sixty  thousand  men, 
and  all  the  men  in  the  backwoods  were  ordered  to  march  in 
stantly  to  the  relief  of  the  city. 

In  the  evening,  I  received  a  note  from  Emilia,  who  was  at 
Peterborough,  in  which  she  informed  me  that  my  husband 

had  borrowed  a  horse  of  Mr.  S ,  and  had  joined  a  large 

party  of  two  hundred  volunteers,  who  had  left  that  morning 


THE  OUTBREAK.  149 

for  Toronto ;  that  there  had  been  a  battle  with  the  insurgents ; 
that  Colonel  Moodie  had  been  killed,  and  the  rebels  had  re 
treated  ;  and  that  she  hoped  my  husband  would  return  in  a 
few  days.  The  honest  backwoodsmen,  perfectly  ignorant  of 
the  abuses  that  had  led  to  the  present  position  of  things,  re 
garded  the  rebels  as  a  set  of  monsters,  for  whom  no  punish 
ment  was  too  severe,  and  obeyed  the  call  to  arms  with  en 
thusiasm.  The  leader  of  the  insurgents  must  have  been 
astonished  at  the  rapidity  with  which  a  large  force  was  col 
lected,  as  if  by  magic,  to  repel  his  designs.  A  great  number 
of  these  volunteers  were  half-pay  officers,  many  of  whom  had 
fought  in  the  continental  wars  with  the  armies  of  Napoleon, 
and  would  have  been  found  a  host  in  themselves. 

In  a  week,  Moodie  returned.  So  many  volunteers  had 
poured  into  Toronto  that  the  number  of  friends  was  likely 
to  prove  as  disastrous  as  that  of  enemies,  on  account  of  the 
want  of  supplies  to  maintain  them  all.  '  The  companies  from 
the  back  townships  had  been  remanded,  and  I  received  with 
delight  my  own  again.  But  this  reunion  did  not  last  long. 
Several  regiments  of  militia  were  formed  to  defend  the 
colony,  and  to  my  husband  was  given  'the  rank  of  captain  in 
one  of  those  then  stationed  in  Toronto. 

On  the  20th  of  January,  1838,  he  bade  us  a  long  adieu. 
I  was  left  with  old  Jenny  and  the  children  to  take  care  of  the 
farm.  It  was  a  sad,  dull  time.  I  could  bear  up  against  all 
trials  with  him  to  comfort  and  cheer  me,  but  his  long-con 
tinued  absence  cast  a  gloom  upon  my  spirit  not  easily  to  be 
shaken  off.  Still  his  very  appointment  to  this  situation  was  a 
signal  act  of  mercy.  From  his  full  pay,  he  was  enabled  to 
liquidate  many  pressing  debts,  and  to  send  home  from  time 
to  time  sums  of  money  to  procure  necessaries  for  me  and 
the  little  ones.  These  remittances  were  greatly  wanted ;  but 
I  demurred  before  laying  them  out  for  comforts  which  we 


150  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

had  been  so  long  used  to  dispense  with.  It  seemed  almost 
criminal  to  purchase  any  article  of  luxury,  such  as  tea  and 
sugar,  while  a  debt  remained  unpaid. 

The  Y 's  were  very  pressing  for  the  thirty  pounds  'that 

we  owed  them  for  the  clearing  ;  but  they  had  such  a  firm  reli 
ance  upon  the  honour  of  my  husband,  that,  poor  and  pressed 
for  money  as  they  were,  they  never  sued  us.  I  thought  it 
would  be  a  pleasing  surprise  to  Moodie,  if,  with  the  sums  of 
money  which  I  occasionally  received  from  him,  I  could  dimin 
ish  this  debt,  which  had  always  given  him  the  greatest  unea 
siness  ;  and,  my  resolution  once  formed,  I  would  not  allow 
any  temptation  to  shake  it.  The  money  was  always  trans 
mitted  to  Dummer.  I  only  reserved  the  sum  of  two  dolUrs 
a-month,  to  pay  a  little  lad  to  chop  wood  for  us.  After  a 
time,  I  began  to  think  the  Y 's  were  gifted  with  second- 
sight  ;  for  I  never  received  a  money-letter,  but  the  very  next 
day  I  was  sure  to  see  some  of  the  family. 

Just  at  this  period  I  received  a  letter  from  a  gentleman, 
requesting  me  to  write  for  a  magazine  (the  Literary  Garland}, 
just  started  in  Montreal,  with  promise  to  remunerate  me  for 
my  labours.  Such  an  application  was  like  a  gleam  of  light 
springing  up  in  the  darkness ;  it  seemed  to  promise  the  dawn 
ing  of  a  brighter  day.  I  had  never  been  able  to  turn  my 
thoughts  towards  literature  during  my  sojourn  in  the  bush. 
When  the  body  is  fatigued  with  labour,  unwonted  and  beyond 
its  strength,  the  mind  is  in  no  condition  for  mental  occupation. 

The  year  before,  I  had  been  requested  by  an  American 
author,  of  great  merit,  to  contribute  to  the  North  American 
Review,  published  for  several  years  in  Philadelphia ;  and  he 
promised  to  remunerate  me  in  proportion  to  the  success  of 
the  work.  I  had  contrived  to  write  several  articles  after  the 
children  were  asleep,  though  the  expense  even  of  the  station 
ery  and  the  postage  of  the  manuscripts  was  severely  felt  by 


THE  OUTBREAK,  151 

one  so  destitute  of  means ;  but  the  hope  of  being  of  the  least 
service  to  those  dear  to  me  cheered  me  to  the  task.  I  never 
realized  any  thing  from  that  source  ;  but  I  believe  it  was  not 
the  fault  of  the  editor.  Several  other  American  editors  had 
written  to  me  to  furnish  them  with  articles  ;  but  I  was  unable 
to  pay  the  postage  of  heavy  packets  to  the  States,  and  they 
could  not  reach  their  destination  without  being  paid  to  the 
frontier.  Thus,  all  chance  of  making  any  thing  in  that  way- 
had  been  abandoned.  I  wrote  to  Mr.  L ,  and  frankly  in 
formed  him  how  I  was  situated.  In  the  most  liberal  manner, 
he  offered  to  pay  the  postage  on  all  manuscripts  to  his  office, 
and  left  me  to  name  my  own  terms  of  remuneration.  This 
opened  up  a  new  era  in  my  existence ;  and  for  many  years 
I  have  found  in  this  generous  man,  to  whom  I  am  still  person 
ally  unknown,  a  steady  friend.  I  actually  shed  tears  of  joy 
over  the  first  twenty-dollar  bill  I  received  from  Montreal. 
It  was  my  own  ;  I  had  earned  it  with  my  own  hand  ;  and  it 
seemed  to  my  delighted  fancy  to  form  the  nucleus  out  of 
which  a  future  independence  for  my  family  might  arise.  I 
no  longer  retired  to  bed  when  the  labours  of  the  day  were 
over.  I  sat  up,  and  wrote  by  the  light  of  a  strange  sort  of 
candles,  that  Jenny  called  "  sluts,"  and  which  the  old  woman 
manufactured  out  of  pieces  of  old  rags,  twisted  together  and 
dipped  in  pork  lard,  and  stuck  in  a  bottle.  They  did  not  give 
a  bad  light,  but  it  took  a  great  many  of  them  to  last  me  for  a 
few  hours. 

The  faithful  old  creature  regarded  my  writings  with  a 
jealous  eye.  "  An',  shure,  it's  killin'  yerself  that  you  are  in- 
tirely.  You  were  thin  enough  before  you  took  to  the  pen ; 
scribblin'  an'  scrabblin'  when  you  should  be  in  bed  an'  asleep. 
What  good  will  it  be  to  the  childhren,  dear  heart !  if  you  die 
afore  your  time,  by  wastin'  your  strength  afther  that  fashion  1" 

Jenny  never  could  conceive  the  use  of  books.     "Shure, 


152  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

we  can  live  and  die  widout  them.  It's  only  a  waste  of  time 
botherin'  your  brains  wid  the  like  of  them  ;  but,  thank  good 
ness  !  the  lard  will  soon  be  all  done,  an'  thin  we  shall  hear 
you  spakin'  again,  instead  of  sittin'  there  doubled  up  all 
night,  desthroying  your  eyes  wid  porin'  over  the  dirthy 
writin'." 

As  the  sugar-making  season  drew  near.  Jenny  conceived 
the  bold  thought  of  making  a  good  lump  of  sugar,  that  the 
"  childher"  might  have  something  to  "  ate"  with  their  bread 
during  the  summer.  We  had  no  sugar-kettle,  but  a  neigh 
bour  promised  to  lend  us  his,  and  to  give  us  twenty-eight 
troughs,  on  condition  that  we  gave  him  half  the  sugar  we 
made.  These  terms  were  rather  hard,  but  Jenny  was  so 
anxious  to  fulfil  the  darling  object  that  we  consented.  Little 
Sol  and  the  old  woman  made  some  fifty  troughs  more,  the 
trees  were  duly  tapped,  a  shanty  in  the  bush  was  erected  of 
small  logs  and  brush  and  covered  in  at  the  top  with  straw ; 
and  the  old  woman  and  Solomon,  the  hired  boy,  commenced 
operations. 

The  very  first  day,  a  terrible,  accident  happened  to  us  ;  a 
large  log  fell  upon  the  sugar-kettle — the  borrowed  sugar-ket 
tle — and  cracked  it,  spilling  all  the  sap,  and  rendering  the 
vessel,  which  had  cost  four  dollars,  useless.  "We  were  all  in 
dismay.  Just  at  that  time  Old  Wittals  happened  to  pass,  on 
his  way  to  Peterborough.  He  very  good-naturedly  offered  to 
get  the  kettle  repaired  for  us  ;  which,  he  said,  could  be  easily 
done  by  a  rivet  and  an  iron  hoop.  But  where  was  the  money 
to  come  from !  I  thought  awhile.  Katie  had  a  magnificent 
coral  and  bells,  the  gift  of  her  godfather ;  I  asked  the  dear 

child  if  she  would  give  it  to  buy  another  kettle  for  Mr.  T . 

She  said,  "  I  would  give  ten  times  as  much  to  help  mamma." 

I  wrote  a  little  note  to  Emilia,  who  was  still  at  her  father's ; 
and  Mr.  W ,  the  storekeeper,  sent  us  a  fine  sugar-kettle 


THE  OUTBREAK.  153 

back  by  Wittals,  and  also  the  other  mended,  in  exchange  for 
the  useless  piece  of  finery.  We  had  now  two  kettles  at  work, 
to  the  joy  of  Jenny,  who  declared  that  it  was  a  lucky  fairy 
who  had  broken  the  old  kettle. 

While  Jenny  was  engaged  in  boiling  and  gathering  the  sap 
in  the  bush,  I  sugared  off  the  syrup  in  the  house ;  an  operation 
watched  by  the  children  with  intense  interest.  After  standing 
all  day  over  the  hot  stove-fire,  it  was  quite  a  refreshment  to 
breathe  the  pure  air  at  night.  Every  evening  I  ran  up  to  see 
Jenny  in  the  bush,  singing  and  boiling  down  the  sap  in  the 
front  of  her  little  shanty.  The  old  woman  was  in  her  element, 
and  afraid  of  nothing  under  the  stars ;  she  slept  beside  her 
kettles  at  night,  and  snapped  her  fingers  at  the  idea  of  the 
least  danger.  She  was  sometimes  rather  despotic  in  her 
treatment  of  her  attendant,  Sol.  One  morning,  in  particular, 
she  bestowed  upon  the  lad  a  severe  cuffing.  I  ran  up  the 
clearing  to  the  rescue,  when  my  ears  were  assailed  by  the 
"  boo-hooing"  of  the  boy. 

"What  has  happened  1  Why  do  you  beat  the  child, 
Jenny?" 

"  It's  jist,  thin,  I  that  will  bate  him — the  unlucky  omad- 
hawn !  Has  he  not  spilt  and  spiled  two  buckets  of  syrup, 
that  I  have  been  the  live-long  night  bilin'.  Sorra  wid  him ; 
I'd  like  to  strip  the  skin  off  him,  I  would !  Musha !  but  'tis 
enough  to  vex  a  saint." 

"  Ah,  Jenny  !"  blubbered  the  poor  boy,  "  but  you  have  no 
mercy.  You  forget  that  I  have  but  one  eye,  and  that  I  could 
not  see  the  root  which  caught  my  foot  and  threw  me  down." 

"  Faix !  an'  'tis  a  pity  that  you  have  the  one  eye,  when 
you  don't  know  how  to  make  a  betther  use  of  it,"  muttered  the 
angry  dame,  as  she  picked  up  the  pails,  and,  pushing  him  on 
before  her,  beat  a  retreat  into  the  bush. 

I  was  heartily  sick  of  the  sugar-making,  long  before  the 

VOL,  II.  7* 


154  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSK 

season  was  over ;  however,  we  were  well  paid  for  our 
trouble.  Besides  one  hundred  and  twelve  pounds  of  fine  soft 
sugar,  as  good  as  Muscovado,  we  had  six  gallons  of  molasses, 
and  a  keg  containing  six  gallons  of  excellent  vinegar. 

Fifty  pounds  went  to  Mr.  T ,  for  the  use  of  his  kettle ; 

and  the  rest  (with  the  exception  of  a  cake  for  Emilia,  which  I 
had  drained  in  a  wet  flannel  bag  until  it  was  almost  as  white 
as  loaf  sugar)  we  kept  for  our  own  use.  There  was  no  lack, 
this  year,  of  nice  preserves  and  pickled  cucumbers,  dainties 
found  in  every  native  Canadian  establishment. 

Besides  gaining  a  little  money  with  my  pen,  I  practised  a 
method  of  painting  birds  and  butterflies  upon  the  white,  vel 
vety  surface  of  the  large  fungi  that  grow  plentifully  upon  the 
bark  of  the  sugar-maple.  These  had  an  attractive  appear 
ance  ;  and  my  brother,  who  was  a  captain  in  one  of  the  pro 
visional  regiments,  sold  a  great  many  of  them  among  the 
officers,  without  saying  by  whom  they  were  painted.  One 
rich  lady  in  Peterborough,  long  since  dead,  ordered  two  dozen 
to  send  as  curiosities  to  England.  These,  at  one  shilling  each, 
enabled  me  to  buy  shoes  for  the  children,  who,  during  our 
bad  times,  had  been  forced  to  dispense  with  these  necessary 
coverings.  How  often,  during  the  winter  season,  have  I  wept 
over  their  little  chapped  feet,  literally  washing  them  with  my 
tears  !  But  these  days  were  to  end ;  Providence  was  doing 
great  things  for  us ;  and  Hope  raised  at  last  her  drooping 
head  to  regard  with  a  brighter  glance  the  far-off  future. 

Slowly  the  winter  rolled  away;  but  he  to  whom  every 
thought  turned  was  still  distant  from  his  humble  home.  The 
receipt  of  an  occasional  letter  from  him  was  my  only  solace 
during  his  long  absence,  and  we  were  still  too  poor  to  indulge 
often  in  this  luxury.  My  poor  Katie  was  as  anxious  as  her 
mother  to  hear  from  her  father ;  and  when  I  did  get  the  long- 
looked-for  prize,  she  would  kneel  down  before  me,  her  little 


THE  OUTBREAK.  155 

elbows  resting  on  my  knees,  her  head  thrown  back,  and  the 
tears  trickling  down  her  innocent  cheeks,  eagerly  drinking  in 
every  word. 

The  spring  brought  us  plenty  of  work ;  we  had  potatoes 
and  corn  to  plant,  and  the  garden  to  cultivate.  By  lending 
my  oxen  for  two  days'  work,  I  got  Wittals,  who  had  no  oxen, 
to  drag  me  in  a  few  acres  of  oats,  and  to  prepare  the  land  for 
potatoes  and  corn.  The  former  I  dropped  into  the  earth, 
while  Jenny  covered  them  up  with  the  hoe. 

Our  garden  was  well  dug  and  plentifully  manured,  the  old 
woman  bringing  the  manure,  which  had  lain  for  several  years 
at  the  barn  door,  down  to  the  plot,  in  a  large  Indian  basket 
placed  upon  a  hand-sleigh.  We  had  soon  every  sort  of  veg 
etable  sown,  with  plenty  of  melons  and  cucumbers,  and  all 
our  beds  promised  a  good  return.  There  were  large  flights 
of  ducks  upon  the  lake  every  night  and  morning ;  but  though 
we  had  guns,  we  did  not  know  how  to  use  them.  However, 
I  thought  of  a  plan,  which  I  flattered  myself  might  prove 
successful ;  I  got  Sol  to  plant  two  stakes  in  the  shallow  water, 
near  the  rice  beds,  and  to  these  I  attached  a  slender  rope, 
made  by  braiding  long  strips  of  the  inner  bark  of  the  bass- 
wood  together ;  to  these  again  I  fastened,  at  regular  intervals, 
about  a  quarter  of  a  yard  of  whip-cord,  headed  by  a  strong 
perch-hook.  These  hooks  I  baited  with  fish  offal,  leaving  them, 
to  float  just  under  the  water.  Early  next  morning,  I  saw  a 
fine  black  duck  fluttering  upon  the  line.  The  boy  ran  down 
with  the  paddles,  but  before  he  could  reach  the  spot,  the  cap 
tive  got  away  by  carrying  the  hook  and  line  with  him.  At 
the  next  stake  he  found  upon  the  hooks  a  large  eel  and  a  cat 
fish. 

I  had  never  before  seen  one  of  those  whiskered,  toad-like 
natives  of  the  Canadian  waters  (so  common  to  the  Bay  of 
Quinte,  where  they  grow  to  a  great  size),  that  I  was  really 


1 56  SOUGHING  IT  W  THE  S USH. 

terrified  at  the  sight  of  the  hideous  beast,  and  told  Sol  to 
throw  it  away.  In  this  I  was  very  foolish,  for  they  are 
esteemed  good  eating  in  many  parts  of  Canada ;  but  to  me, 
the  sight  of  the  reptile-like  thing  is  enough — it  is  uglier,  and 
far  more  disgusting-looking  than  a  toad. 

When  the  trees  came  into  leaf,  and  the  meadows  were 
green,  and  flushed  with  flowers,  the  poor  children  used  to  talk 
constantly  to  me  of  their  father's  return  ;  their  innocent  prat 
tle  made  me  very  sad.  Every  evening  we  walked  into  the 
wood,  along  the  path  that  he  must  come  whenever  he  did 
return  home,  to  meet  him ;  and  though  it  was  a  vain  hope, 
and  the  walk  was  taken  just  to  amuse  the  little  ones,  I  used 
to  be  silly  enough  to  feel  deeply  disappointed  when  we  re 
turned  alone.  Donald,  who  was  a  mere  baby  when  his  father 
left  us,  could  just  begin  to  put  words  together.  "Who  is 
papa  r  "  When  will  he  come  f  "  Will  he  come  by  the 
road  ?"  "  Will  he  come  in  a  canoe  f  The  little  creature's 
curiosity  to  see  this  unknown  father  was  really  amusing; 
and  oh !  how  I  longed  to  present  the  little  fellow,  with  his 
rosy  cheeks  and  curling  hair,  to  his  father ;  he  was  so 
fair,  so  altogether  charming  in  my  eyes.  Emilia  had  called 
him  Cedric  the  Saxon;  and  he  well  suited  the  name, 
with  his  frank,  honest  disposition,  and  large,  loving  blue 
eyes. 

June  had  commenced ;  the  weather  was  very  warm,  and 

Mr.  T had  sent  for  the  loan  of  old  Jenny  to  help  him  for 

a  day  with  his  potatoes.  I  had  just  prepared  dinner  when 
the  old  woman  came  shrieking  like  a  mad  thing  down  the 
clearing,  and  waving  her  hands  towards  me.  I  could  not 
imagine  what  had  happened. 

"  Ninny's  mad  !"  whispered  Dunbar ;  "  she's  the  old  girl 
for  making  a  noise." 

"  Joy !  joy !"  bawled  out  the  old  woman,  now  running 


THE  OUTBREAK.  157 

breathlessly  towards  us.  "The  masther's  come — the  mas- 
ther's  come !" 

"  Where  ?— where  ?" 

"  Jist  above  in  the  wood.  Goodness  gracious !  I  have 
run  to  let  you  know — so  fast — that  my  heart — is  like  to — 
break." 

Without  stopping  to  comfort  poor  Jenny,  off  started  the 
children  and  myself,  at  the  very  top  of  our  speed  ;  but  I  soon 
found  that  I  could  not  run — I  was  too  much  agitated.  I  got 
to  the  head  of  the  bush,  and  sat  down  upon  a  fallen  tree. 
The  children  sprang  forward  like  wild  kids,  all  but  Donald, 
who  remained  with  his  old  nurse.  I  covered  my  face  with 
my  hands ;  my  heart,  too,  was  beating  audibly ;  and  now 
that  he  was  come,  and  was  so  near  me,  I  scarcely  could  com 
mand  strength  to  meet  him.  The  sound  of  happy  young 
voices  roused  me  up  ;  the  children  were  leading  him  along  in 
triumph ;  and  he  was  bending  down  to  them,  all  smiles,  but 
hot  and  tired  with  his  long  journey.  It  was  almost  worth 
our  separation,  that  blissful  meeting.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
was  at  home,  and  the  children  upon  his  knees.  Katie  stood 
silently  holding  his  hand,  but  Addie  and  Dunbar  had  a 
thousand  things  to  tell  him.  Donald  was  frightened  at  his 
military  dress,  but  he  peeped  at  him  from  behind  my  gown, 
until  I  caught  and  placed  him  in  his  father's  arms. 

His  leave  of  absence  only  extended  to  a  fortnight.  It  had 
taken  him  three  days  to  come  all  the  way  from  Lake  Erie, 
where  his  regiment  was  stationed,  at  Point  Abino ;  and  the 
same  time  would  be  consumed  in  his  return.  He  could  only 
remain  witn  us  eight  days.  How  soon  they  fled  away  !  How 
bitter  was  the  thought  of  parting  with  him  again !  He  had 

brought  money  to  pay  the  J 's.  How  surprised  he  was 

to  find  their  large  debt  more  than  half  liquidated.  How 
gently  did  he  chide  me  for  depriving  myself  and  the  children 


15?  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

of  the  little  comforts  he  had  designed  for  us,  in  order  to  make 
this  sacrifice.  But  never  was  self-denial  more  fully  rewarded ; 
I  felt  happy  in  having  contributed  in  the  least  to  pay  a  just 
debt  to  kind  and  worthy  people.  You  must  become  poor 
yourself  before  you  can  fully  appreciate  the  good  qualities  of 
the  poor — before  you  can  sympathize  with  them,  and  fully 
recognize  them  as  your  brethren  in  the  flesh.  Their  benev 
olence  to  each  other,  exercised  amidst  want  and  privation,  as 
far  surpasses  the  munificence  of  the  rich  towards  them,  as  the 
exalted  philanthropy  of  Christ  and  his  disciples  does  the 
Christianity  of  the  present  day.  The  rich  man  gives  from 
his  abundance ;  the  poor  man  shares  with  a  distressed  com 
rade  his  all. 

One  short,  happy  week  too  soon  fled  away,  and  we  were 
once  more  alone.  In  the  fall,  my  husband  expected  the  reg 
iment  in  which  he  held  his  commission  would  be  reduced, 
which  would  again  plunge  us  into  the  same  distressing  pov 
erty.  Often  of  a  night  I  revolved  these  things  in  my  mind, 
and  perplexed  myself  with  conjectures  as  to  what  in  future 
was  to  become  of  us.  Although  he  had  saved  all  he  could 
from  his  pay,  it  was  impossible  to  pay  several  hundreds  of 
pounds  of  debt ;  and  the  steamboat  stock  still  continued  a 
dead  letter.  To  remain  much  longer  in  the  woods  was  im 
possible,  for  the  returns  from  the  farm  scarcely  fed  us ;  and 
but  for  the  clothing  sent  us  by  friends  from  home,  who  were 
not  aware  of  our  real  difficulties,  we  should  have  been  badly 
off  indeed. 

I  pondered  over  every  plan  that  thought  could  devise ;  at 
last,  I  prayed  to  the  Almighty  to  direct  me  as  to  what  would 
be  the  best  course  for  us  to  pursue.  A  sweet  assurance  stole 
over  me,  and  soothed  my  spirit,  that  God  would  provide  for 
us,  as  He  had  hitherto  done— that  a  great  deal  of  our  distress 
arose  from  want  of  faith.  I  was  just  sinking  into  a  calm  sleep 


TEE  OUTBREAK  159 

•when  the  thought  seemed  whispered  into  my  soul,  "  Write  to 
the  Governor ;  tell  him  candidly  all  you  have  suffered  during 
your  sojourn  in  this  country ;  and  trust  to  God  for  the  rest." 

At  first  I  paid  little  heed  to  this  suggestion ;  but  it  became 
so  importunate  that  at  last  I  determined  to  act  upon  it  as  if 
it  were  a  message  sent  from  heaven.  I  rose  from  my  bed, 
struck  a  light,  sat  down,  and  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor,  Sir  George  Arthur,  a  simple  statement  of  facts, 
leaving  it  to  his  benevolence  to  pardon  the  liberty  I  had  taken 
in  addressing  him. 

I  asked  of  him  to  continue  my  husband  in  the  militia  service, 
in  the  same  regiment  in  which  he  now  held  the  rank  of  cap 
tain,  which,  by  enabling  him  to  pay  our  debts,  would  rescue 
us  from  our  present  misery.  Of  the  political  character  of  Sir 
George  Arthur  I  knew  nothing.  I  addressed  him  as  a  man 
and  a  Christian;  and  I  acknowledge,  with  the  deepest  and 
most  heartfelt  gratitude,  the  generous  kindness  of  his  conduct 
towards  us.  Before  the  day  dawned,  my  letter  was  ready  for 
the  post.  The  first  secret  I  ever  had  from  my  husband  was 
the  writing  of  that  letter ;  and,  proud  and  sensitive  as  he  was, 
and  averse  to  asking  the  least  favour  of  the  great,  I  was  dread, 
fully  afraid  that  the  act  I  had  just  done  would  be  displeasing 
to  him ;  still,  I  felt  resolutely  determined  to  send  it.  After 
giving  the  children  their  breakfast,  I  walked  down  and  read 
it  to  my  brother-in-law,  who  was  not  only  much  pleased  with 
its  contents,  but  took  it  down  himself  to  the  post-office. 

Shortly  after,  I  received  a  letter  from  my  husband,  inform, 
ing  me  that  the  regiment  had  been  reduced,  and  that  he  should 
be  home  in  time  to  get  in  the  harvest.  Most  anxiously  I 
awaited  a  reply  to  my  application  to  the  Governor ;  but  no 
reply  came. 

The  first  week  in  August  our  dear  Moodie  came  home, 
and  brought  with  him,  to  our  no  small  joy,  J.  E ,  who 


160  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

had  just  returned  from  Ireland.  E had  been  disappointed 

about  the  money,  which  was  subject  to  litigation ;  and,  tired 
of  waiting  at  home  until  the  tedious  process  of  the  law  should 
terminate,  he  had  come  back  to  the  woods,  and,  before  night, 
was  reinstated  in  his  old  quarters. 

His  presence  made  Jenny  all  alive ;  she  dared  him  at  once 

to  a  trial  of  skill  with  her  in  the  wheat- field,  which  E 

prudently  declined.  He  did  not  expect  to  stay  longer  in 
Canada  than  the  fall,  but,  whilst  he  did  stay,  he  was  to  con 
sider  our  house  his  home. 

That  harvest  was  the  happiest  we  ever  spent  in  the  bush. 
We  had  enough  of  the  common  necessaries  of  life.  A  spirit 
of  peace  and  harmony  pervaded  our  little  dwelling,  for  the 
most  affectionate  attachment  existed  among  its  members. 
We  were  not  troubled  with  servants,  for  the  good  old  Jenny 
we  regarded  as  an  humble  friend,  and  were  freed,  by  that  cir 
cumstance,  from  many  of  the  cares  and  vexations  of  a  bush 
life.  Our  evening  excursions  on  the  lake  were  doubly  en 
joyed  after  the  labours  of  the  day,  and  night  brought  us  calm, 
and  healthful  repose. 


THE  WHIRLWIND.  161 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE    WHIRLWIND. 

THE  19th  of  August  came,  and  our  little  harvest  was  all 
safely  housed.  Business  called  Moodie  away  for  a  few 
days  to  Cobourg.  Jenny  had  gone  to  Dummer,  to  visit  her 

friends,  and  J.  E had  taken  a  grist  of  the  new  wheat, 

which  he  and  Moodie  had  threshed  the  day  before,  to  the  mill. 
I  was  consequently  left  alone  with  the.  children,  and  had  a 
double  portion  of  work  to  do.  During  their  absence  it  was 
my  lot  to  witness  the  most  awful  storm  I  ever  beheld,  and  a 
vivid  recollection  of  its  terrors  was  permanently  fixed  upon 
my  memory. 

The  weather  had  been  intensely  hot  during  the  three  pre 
ceding  days,  although  the  sun  was  entirely  obscured  by  a 
blueish  haze,  which  seemed  to  render  the  unusual  heat  of  the 
atmosphere  more  oppressive.  Not  a  breath  of  air  stirred  the 
vast  forest,  and  the  waters  of  the  lake  assumed  a  leaden  hue. 
After  passing  a  sleepless  night,  I  arose,  a  little  after  daybreak, 
to  superintend  my  domestic  affairs.  E took  his  break 
fast,  and  went  off  to  the  mill,  hoping  that  the  rain  would  keep 
off  until  after  his  return. 

"  It  is  no  joke,"  he  said, "  being  upon  these  lakes  in  a  small 
canoe,  heavily  laden,  in  a  storm." 

Before  the  sun  rose,  the  heavens  were  covered  with  hard- 
looking  clouds,  of  a  deep  blue  and  black  cast,  fading  away  to 
white  at  their  edges,  and  in  form  resembling  the  long,  rolling 


162  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

waves  of  a  heavy  sea — but  with  this  difference,  that  the  clouds 
were  perfectly  motionless,  piled  in  long  curved  lines,  one  above 
the  other,  and  so  remained  until  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
The  appearance  of  these  clouds,  as  the  sun  rose  above  the  hori 
zon,  was  the  most  splendid  that  can  be  imagined,  tinged  up  to 
the  zenith  with  every  shade  of  saffron,  gold,  rose-colour,  scarlet, 
and  crimson,  fading  away  into  the  deepest  violet.  Never  did 
the  storm-fiend  shake  in  the  face  of  day  a  more  gorgeous  ban 
ner  ;  and,  pressed  as  I  was  for  time,  I  stood  gazing  like  one 
entranced  upon  the  magnificent  pageant. 

As  the  day  advanced,  the  same  blue  haze  obscured  the 
sun,  which  frowned  redly  through  his  misty  veil.  At  ten 
o'clock  the  heat  was  suffocating,  and  I  extinguished  the  fire  in 
the  cooking-stove,  determined  to  make  our  meals  upon  bread 
and  milk,  rather  than  add  to  the  oppressive  heat.  The  ther 
mometer  in  the  shade  ranged  from  ninety-six  to  ninety-eight 
degrees,  and  I  gave  over  my  work  and  retired  with  the  little 
ones  to  the  coolest  part  of  the  house.  The  young  creatures 
stretched  themselves  upon  the  floor,  unable  to  jump  about  or 
play ;  the  dog  lay  panting  in  the  shade  ;  the  fowls  half  buried 
themselves  in  the  dust,  with  open  beaks  and  outstretched  wings. 
All  nature  seemed  to  droop  beneath  the  scorching  heat. 

Unfortunately  for  me,  a  gentleman  arrived  about  one 
o'clock  from  Kingston,  to  transact  some  business  with  my 
husband.  He  had  not  tasted  food  since  six  o'clock,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  kindle  the  fire  to  prepare  his  dinner.  It  was  one 
of  the  hardest  tasks  I  ever  performed  ;  I  almost  fainted  witli 
the  heat,  and  most  inhospitably  rejoiced  when  his  dinner  was 
over,  and  I  saw  him  depart.  Shortly  afterwards,  my  friend 

Mrs.  C and  her  brother  called  in,  on  their  way  from 

Peterborough. 

"  How  do  you  bear  the  heat  T  asked  Mrs.  C .  "  This 

is  one  of  the  hottest  days  I  ever  remember  to  have  experienced 


THE  WHIRLWIND.  163 

in  this  part  of  the  province.  I  am  afraid  that  it  will  end  in 
a  hurricane,  or  what  the  Lower  Canadians  term  '  L'Orage.' " 

About  four  o'clock  they  rose  to  go.  I  urged  them  to  stay 

longer.  "  No,"  said  Mrs.  C ,  "  the  sooner  we  get  home 

the  better.  I  think  we  can  reach  it  before  the  storm  breaks." 

I  took  Donald  in  my  arms,  and  my  eldest  boy  by  the 
hand,  and  walked  with  them  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  thinking 
that  the  air  would  be  cooler  in  the  shade.  In  this  I  was  mis 
taken.  The  clouds  over  our  heads  hung  so  low,  and  the  heat 
was  so  great,  that  I  was  soon  glad  to  retrace  my  steps. 

The  moment  I  turned  round  to  face  the  lake,  I  was  sur 
prised  at  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  the  appearance 
of  the  heavens.  The  clouds,  that  had  before  lain  so  motion 
less,  were  now  in  rapid  motion,  hurrying  and  chasing  each 
other  round  the  horizon.  It  was  a  strangely  awful  sight. 
Before  I  felt  a  breath  of  the  mighty  blast  that  had  already 
burst  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake,  branches  of  trees,  leaves, 
and  clouds  of  dust  were  whirled  across  the  lake,  whose 
waters  rose  in  long  sharp  furrows,  fringed  with  foam,  as  if 
moved  in  their  depths  by  some  unseen  but  powerful  agent. 

Panting  with  terror,  I  just  reached  the  door  of  the  house  as 
the  hurricane  swept  up  the  hill,  crushing  and  overturning 
every  thing  in  its  course.  Spell-bound,  I  stood  at  the  open 
door,  with  clasped  hands,  unable  to  speak,  rendered  dumb 
and  motionless  by  the  terrible  grandeur  of  the  scene ;  while 
little  Donald,  who  could  not  utter  many  intelligible  words, 
crept  to  my  feet,  appealing  to  me  for  protection,  while  his 
rosy  cheeks  paled  even  to  marble  whiteness.  The  hurrying 
clouds  gave  to  the  heavens  the  appearance  of  a  pointed  dome, 
round  which  the  lightning  played  in  broad  ribbons  of  fire. 
The  roaring  of  the  thunder,  the  rushing  of  the  blast,  the  im 
petuous  down-pouring  of  the  rain,  and  the  crash  of  falling 
trees,  were  perfectly  deafening  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  this  up- 


164  ROUGHING  IT  IN  TEE  EUSH. 

roar  of  the  elements,  old  Jenny  burst  in,  drenched  with  wet, 
and  half  dead  with  fear. 

"  The  Lord  preserve  us !"  she  cried,  "  this,  surely  is  the 
day  of  judgment.  Fifty  trees  fell  across  my  very  path,  be 
tween  this  an'  the  creek.  Mrs.  C just  reached  her 

brother's  clearing  a  few  minutes  before  a  great  oak  fell  on 
her  very  path.  What  thunther  ! — what  lightning !  Misthress, 
dear ! — it's  turn'd  so  dark,  I  can  only  jist  see  yer  face." 

Glad  enough  was  I  of  her  presence ;  for  to  be  alone  in  the 
heart  of  the  great  forest,  in  a  log  hut,  on  such  a  night,  was  not 
a  pleasing  prospect.  People  gain  courage  by  companionship, 
and  in  order  to  reassura  each  other,  struggle  to  conceal  their 
fears. 

"And  where  is  Mr,  E—i" 

"  I  hope  not  on  the  lake.  He  went  early  this  morning  to 
get  the  wheat  ground  at  the  mill." 

"  Och,  the  crathur !  He's  surely  drowned.  What  boat 
could  stan'  such  a  scrimmage,  as  this  ?" 

I  had  my  fears  for  poor  John;  but  as  the  chance  that  he 
had  to  wait  at  the  mill  till  others  were  served  was  more  than 
probable,  I  tried  to  sti]l  my  apprehensions  for  his  safety.  The 
storm  soon  passed  over,  after  having  levelled  several  acres  of 
wood  near  the  house,  and  smitten  down  in  its  progress  two 
gigantic  pines  in  the  clearing,  which  must  have  withstood  the 
force  of  a  thousand  winters.  Talking  over  the  effects  of  this 
whirlwind  with  my  brother,  he  kindly  sent  me  the  following 
very  graphic  description  of  a  whirlwind  which  passed  through 
the  town  of  Guelph  in  the  summer  of  1829. 

*  "  In  my  hunting  excursions  and  rambles  through  the 
Upper  Canadian  forests,  I  had  frequently  met  with  extensive 
wind-falls ;  and  observed  with  some  surprise  that  the  fallen 

*  Written  by  Mr.  Strickland,  of  Douro. 


TEE  WHIRLWIND.  165 

trees  lay  strewn  in  a  succession  of  circles,  and  evidently  ap 
peared  to  have  been  twisted  off  the  stumps.  I  also  remarked 
that  these  wind-falls  were  generally  narrow,  and  had  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  road  slashed  through  the  forest.  From  obser 
vations  made  at  the  time,  and  since  confirmed,  I  have  no 
doubt  that  Colonel  Eeid's  theory  of  storms  is  a  correct  one, 
viz.,  that  all  wind-storms  move  in  a  circular  direction,  and 
the  nearer  the  centre  the  more  violent  the  force  of  the  wind. 
Having  seen  the  effects  of  several  similar  hurricanes  since  my 
residence  in  Canada  West,  I  shall  proceed  to  describe  one 
which  happened  in  the  township  of  Guelph  during  the  early 
part  of  the  summer  of  1829. 

"  The  weather,  for  the  season  of  the  year  (May),  had  been 
hot  and  sultry,  with  scarcely  a  breath  of  wind  stirring.  I 
had  heard  distant  thunder  from  an  early  hour  in  the  morning, 
which,  from  the  eastward,  is-  rather  an  unusual  occurrence. 
About  10  A.  M.,  the  sky  had  a  most  singular,  and  I  must  add 
a  most  awful  appearance,  presenting  to  the  view  a  vast  arch 
of  rolling  blackness,  which  seemed  to  gather  strength  and  den 
sity  as  it  approached  the  zenith.  All  at  once  the  clouds  began 
to  work  round  in  circles,  as  if  chasing  one  another  through  the 
air.  Suddenly  the  dark  arch  of  clouds  appeared  to  break  up 
into  detached  masses,  whirling  and  mixing  through  each  other 
in  dreadful  commotion.  The  forked  lightning  was  incessant, 
accompanied  by  heavy  thunder.  In  a  short  time,  the  clouds 
seemed  to  converge  to  a  point,  which  approached  very  near 
the  earth,  still  whirling  with  great  rapidity  directly  under  this 
point ;  and  apparently  from  the  midst  of  the  woods  arose  a 
black  column,  in  the  shape  of  a  cone,  which  instantly  joined 
itself  to  the  depending  cloud.  The  sight  was  now  grand  and 
awful  in  the  extreme.  Picture  to  your  imagination  a  vast 
column  of  smoke,  of  inky  blackness,  reaching  from  earth  to 
heaven,  gyrating  with  fearful  velocity — bright  lightnings  issu- 


166  KOUGHINQ  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

ing  from  the  vortex ;  the  roar  of  the  thunder — the  rushing 
of  the  blast — the  crash  of  timber — the  limbs  of  trees,  leaves, 
and  rubbish,  mingled  with  clouds  of  dust,  whirling  through 
the  air ; — you  then  have  a  faint  idea  of  the  scene. 

"  I  had  ample  time  for  observation,  as  the  hurricane  com 
menced  its  devastating  course  about  two  miles  from  the  town, 
through  the  centre  of  which  it  took  its  way,  passing  within 
fifty  yards  of  where  a  number  of  persons,  myself  among  the 
rest,  were  standing,  watching  its  fearful  progress. 

"  As  the  tornado  approached,  the  trees  seemed  to  fall  like 
a  pack  of  cards  before  its  irresistible  current.  After  passing 
through  the  clearing  made  around  the  village,  the  force  of  the 
wind  gradually  abated,  and  in  a  few  minutes  died  away  entirely. 

"  As  soon  as  the  storm  was  over,  I  went  to  see  the  damage 
it  had  done.  From  the  point  where  I  first  observed  the  black 
column  to  rise  from  the  woods  and  join  the  clouds,  the  trees 
were  twisted  in  every  direction.  A  belt  of  timber  had  been 
levelled  to  the  ground,  about  two  miles  in  length  and  about 
one  hundred  yards  in  breadth.  At  the  entrance  of  the  town  it 
crossed  the  river  Speed,  and  uprooted  about  six  acres  of  wood, 
which  had  been  thinned  out,  and  left  by  Mr.  Gait  (late  superin 
tendent  of  the  Canada  Company),  as  an  ornament  to  his  house. 

"  The  Eremosa  road  was  completely  blocked  up  for  nearly 
half-a-mile,  in  the  wildest  confusion  possible.  In  its  progress 
through  the  town  the  storm  unroofed  several  houses,  levelled 
many  fences  to  the  ground,  and  entirely  demolished  a  frame 
barn.  Windows  were  dashed  in ;  and,  in  one  instance,  the 
floor  of  a  log  house  was  carried  through  the  roof.  Some  hair 
breadth  escapes  occurred  :  but,  luckily,  no  lives  were  lost. 

"  About  twelve  years  since  a  similar  storm  occurred  in 
the  north  part  of  the  township  of  Douro,  but  was  of  much  less 
magnitude.  I  heard  an  intelligent  settler,  who  resided  some 
years  in  the  township  of  Madoc,  state  that,  during  his  resi- 


THE   WHIRLWIND.  167 

dence  in  that  township,  a  similar  hurricane  to  the  one  I  have 
described,  though  of  a  much  more  awful  character,  passed 
through  a  part  of  Marmora  and  Madoc,  and  had  been  traced, 
in  a  north-easterly  direction,  upwards  of  forty  miles  into  the 
unsurveyed  lands ;  the  uniform  width  of  which  appeared  to  be 
three  quarters  of  a  mile. 

"  It  is  very  evident,  from  the  traces  which  they  have  left 
behind  them,  that  storms  of  this  description  have  not  been  un- 
frequent  in  the  wooded  districts  of  Canada  ;  and  it  becomes  a 
matter  of  interesting  consideration  whether  the  clearing  of  our 
immense  forests  will  not,  in  a  great  measure,  remove  the  cause 
of  these  phenomena." 

A  few  minutes  after  our  household  had  retired  to  rest,  my 

first  sleep  was  broken  by  the  voice  of  J.  E ,  speaking  to  old 

Jenny  in  the  kitchen.  He  had  been  overtaken  by  the  storm, 
but  had  run  his  canoe  ashore  upon  an  island  before  its  full  fury 
burst,  and  turned  it  over  the  flour ;  while  he  had  to  brave  the 
terrors  of  a  pitiless  tempest — buffeted  by-  the  wind,  and 
drenched  with  torrents  of  rain.  I  got  up  and  made  him  a 
cup  of  tea,  while  Jenny  prepared  a  rasher  of  bacon  and  eggs 
for  his  supper. 

Shortly  after  this,  J.  E bade  a  final  adieu  to  Canada, 

with  his  cousin  C.  W .  He  volunteered  into  the  Scotch 

Greys,  and  we  never  saw  him  more ;  but  I  have  been  told 
that  he  was  so  highly  respected  by  the  officers  of  the  regiment 
that  they  subscribed  for  his  commission ;  that  he  rose  to  the 
rank  of  lieutenant ;  accompanied  the  regiment  to  India,  and 
was  at  the  taking  of  Cabul ;  but  from  himself  we  never  heard 
again. 

The  16th  of  October,  my  third  son  was  born;  and  a  few 
days  after,  my  husband  was  appointed  paymaster  to  the 
militia  regiments  in  the  V.  District,  with  the  rank  and  full 
pay  of  captain. 


168  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  £USH. 

This  was  Sir  George  Arthur's  doing.  He  returned  no  an 
swer  to  my  application,  but  he  did  not  forget  us.  As  the 
time  that  Moodie  might  retain  this  situation  was  very  doubt 
ful,  he  thought  it  advisable  not  to  remove  me  and  the  family 
until  he  could  secure  some  permanent  situation ;  by  so  doing, 
he  would  have  a  better  opportunity  of  saving  the  greater  part 
of  his  income  to  pay  off  his  old  debts. 

This  winter  of  1839  was  one  of  severe  trial  to  me. 
Hitherto  I  had  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  health ;  but  both  the 
children  and  myself  were  now  doomed  to  suffer  from  danger 
ous  attacks  of  illness.  All  the  little  things  had  malignant 
scarlet  fever,  and  for  several  days  I  thought  it  would  please 
the  Almighty  to  take  from  me  my  two  girls.  This  fever  is 
so  fatal  to  children  in  Canada  that  none  of  my  neighbours 
dared  approach  the  house.  For  three  weeks  Jenny  and  I 
were  never  undressed ;  our  whole  time  was  taken  up  in  nurs 
ing  the  five  little  helpless  creatures  through  the  successive 
stages  of  their  alarming  disease.  I  sent  for  Dr.  Taylor ;  but 
he  did  not  come,  and  I  was  obliged  to  trust  to  the  mercy  of 
God,  and  my  own  judgment  and  good  nursing.  Though  I 
escaped  the  fever,  mental  anxiety  and  fatigue  brought  on 
other  illness,  which  for  nearly  ten  weeks  rendered  me  perfect 
ly  helpless.  When  I  was  again"  able  to  creep  from  my  sick 

bed,  the  baby  was  seized  with  an  illness,  which  Dr.  B 

pronounced  mortal.  Against  all  hope,  he  recovered,  but 
these  severe  mental  trials  rendered  me  weak  and  nervous, 
and  more  anxious  than  ever  to  be  re-united  to  my  husband. 
To  add  to  these  troubles,  my  sister  and  her  husband  sold 

their  farm,  and  removed  from  our  neighbourhood.  Mr. 

had  returned  to  England,  and  had  obtained  a  situation  in  the 
Customs;  and  his  wife,  my  friend  Emilia,  was  keeping  a 
school  in  the  village ;  so  that  I  felt  more  solitary  than  ever, 
thus  deprived  of  so  many  kind,  sympathizing  friends. 


TEE  WALK  TO  DUMMER.  169 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE    WALK     TO     DUMMER. 

T)  EADER !  have  you  ever  heard  of  a  place  situated  in.  the 
-*-U  forest-depths  of  this  far  western  wilderness,  called  Dum- 
mer  1  Ten  years  ago,  it  might  not  inaptly  have  been  termed 
"  The  last  clearing  in  the  world."  Nor  to  this  day  do  I  know 
of  any  in  that  direction  which  extends  beyond  it.  Our  bush- 
farm  was  situated  on  the  border-line  of  a  neighbouring  town 
ship,  only  one  degree  less  wild,  less  out  of  the  world,  or 
nearer  to  the  habitations  of  civilization  than  the  far-famed 
"  English  Line,"  the  boast  and  glory  of  this  terra  incognita. 

This  place,  so  named  by  the  emigrants  who  had  pitched 
their  tents  in  that  solitary  wilderness,  was  a  lo*ng  line  of 
cleared  land,  extending  upon  either  side  for  some  miles  through 
the  darkest  and  most  interminable  forest.  The  English  Line 
was  inhabited  chiefly  by  Cornish  miners,  who,  tired  of  burrow 
ing  like  moles  underground,  had  determined  to  emigrate  to 
Canada,  where  they  could  breathe  the  fresh  air  of  heaven, 
and  obtain  the  necessaries  of  life  upon  the  bosom  of  their 
mother  earth.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  these  men  made 
good  farmers,  and  steady,  industrious  colonists,  working  as 
well  above  ground  as  they  had  toiled  in  their  early  days  be 
neath  it.  All  our  best  servants  came  from  Dummer ;  and 
although  they  spoke  a  language  difficult  to  be  understood, 
and  were  uncouth  in  their  manners  and  appearance,  they  were 
faithful  and  obedient,  performing  the  tasks  assigned  to  them 
VOL.  n.  8 


170  KOUGRIXG-  IT  IN  THE  B&SH. 

with  patient  perseverance ;    good  food  and  kind  treatment 
rendering  them  always  cheerful  and  contented. 

My  dear  old  Jenny,  that  most  faithful  and  attached  of  all 
humble  domestic  friends,  came  from  Dummer,  and  I  was 
wont  to  regard  it  with  complacency  for  her  sake.  But  Jenny 
was  not  English  ;  she  was  a  generous,  warm-hearted  daughter 
of  the  Green  Isle — the  emerald  gem  set  in  the  silver  of 
ocean.  Yes,  Jenny  was  one  of  the  poorest  children  of  that 
impoverished  but  glorious  country  where  wit  and  talent  seem 
indigenous,  springing  up  spontaneously  in  the  rudest  and  most 
uncultivated  minds ;  showing  what  the  land  could  bring  forth 
in  its  own  strength,  unaided  by  education,  and  unfettered  by 
the  conventional  rules  of  society.  Jenny  was  a  striking  in 
stance  of  the  worth,  noble  self-denial,  and  devotion,  which  are 
often  met  with — and,  alas !  but  too  often  disregarded — in  the 
poor  and  ignorant  natives  of  that  deeply-injured  and  much- 
abused  land.  A  few  words  about  my  old  favourite  may  not 
prove  uninteresting  to  my  readers. 

Jenny  Buchanan,  or,  as  she  called  it,  Bohanon,  was  the 
daughter  of  a  petty  exciseman,  of  Scotch  extraction  (hence 
her  industry),  who,  at  the  time  of  her  birth,  resided  near  the 
old  town  of  Inniskillen.  Her  mother  died  a  few  months  after 
she  was  born ;  and  her  father,  within  the  twelve  montbs,  mar 
ried  again.  In  the  mean  while  the  poor  orphan  babe  had  been 
adopted  by  a  kind  neighbour,  the  wife  of  a  small  farmer  in 
the  vicinity. 

In  return  for  coarse  food  and  scanty  clothing,  the  little 
Jenny  became  a  servant  of  all  work.  She  fed  the  pigs,  herded 
the  cattle,  assisted  in  planting  potatoes  and  digging  peat  from 
the  bog,  and  was  undisputed  mistress  of  the  poultry-yard. 
As  she  grew  up  to  womanhood,  the  importance  of  her  labours 
increased.  A  better  reaper  in  the  harvest-field,  or  footer  of 
turf  in  the  bog,  could  not  be  found  in  the  district,  or  a  woman 

'4 


THE  WALK  TO  SUMMER.  171 

"more  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  management  of  cows 
and  the  rearing  of  young  cattle  j  but  here  poor  Jenny's  ac 
complishments  terminated. 

Her  usefulness  was  all  abroad.  Within  the  house  she  made 
more  dirt  than  she  had  the  inclination  or  the  ability  to  clear 
away.  She  could  neither  read,  nor  knit,  nor  sew;  and  al 
though  she  called  herself  a  Protestant,  and  a  Church  of 
England  woman,  she  knew  no  more  of  religion,  as  revealed  to 
man  through  the  Word  of  God,  than  the  savage  who  sinks 
to  the  grave  in  ignorance  of  a  Kedeemer.  Hence  she 
stoutly  resisted  all  idea  of  being  a  sinner,  or  of  standing 
the  least  chance  of  receiving  hereafter  the  condemnation  of 
one. 

"  Och,  shure  thin,"  she  would  say,  with  simple  earnestness 
of  look  and  manner,  almost  irresistible,  "  God  will  never 
throuble  Himsel'  about  a  poor,  hard-working  crathur  like  me, 
who  never  did  any  harm  to  the  manest  of  His  makin'." 

One  thing  was  certain,  that  a  benevolent  Providence  had 
"  throubled  Himsel'  "  about  poor  Jenny  in  times  past,  for  the 
warm  heart  of  this  neglected  child  of  Nature  contained  a 
stream  of  the  richest  benevolence,  which,  situated  as  she  had 
been,  could  not  have  been  derived  from  any  other  source. 
Honest,  faithful,  and  industrious,  Jenny  became  a  law  unto 
herself,  and  practically  illustrated  the  golden  rule  of  her 
blessed  Lord,  "  to  do  unto  others  as  we  would  they  should 
do  unto  us."  She  thought  it  was  impossible  that  her  poor 
services  could  ever  repay  the  debt  of  gratitude  that  she  owed 
to  the  family  who  had  brought  her  up,  although  the  obligation 
must  have  been  entirely  on  their  side.  To  them  she  was 
greatly  attached — for  them  she  toiled  unceasingly ;  and  when 
evil  days  came,  and  they  were  not  able  to  meet  the  rent-day, 
or  to  occupy  the  farm,  she  determined  to  accompany  them  in 
th&ir  emigration  to  Canada,  and  formed  one  of  the  stout-hearted 


172  Z.OTTGinm  IT  IN  THE  BU8K. 

band  that  fixed  its  location  in  the  lonely  and  unexplored  wilds 
now  known  as  the  township  of  Dummer. 

During  the  first  year  of  their  settlement,  the  means  of 
obtaining  the  common  necessaries  of  life  became  so  preca 
rious,  that,  in  order  to  assist  her  friends  with  a  little  ready 
money,  Jenny  determined  to  hire  out  into  some  wealthy 
house  as  a  servant.  When  I  use  the  term  wealth  as  applied 
to  any  bush-settler,  it  is  of  course  only  comparatively  ;  but 
Jenny  was  anxious  to  obtain  a  place  with  settlers  who  enjoyed 
a  small  income  independent  of  their  forest  means. 

Her  first  speculation  was  a  complete  failure.  For  five 
long,  hopeless  years  she  served  a  master  -from  whom  she 
never  received  a  farthing  of  her  stipulated  wages.  Still  her 
attachment  to  the  family  was  so  strong,  and  had  become  so 
much  the  necessity  of  her  life,  that  the  poor  creature  could 
not  make  up  her  mind  to  leave  them.  The  children  wrhom 
she  had  received  into  her  arms  at  their  birth,  and  whom  she 
had  nursed  with  maternal  tenderness,  were  as  dear  to  her  as 
if  they  had  been  her  own ;  she  continued  to  work  for  them, 
although  her  clothes  were  worn  to  tatters,  and  her  own  friends 
were  too  poor  to  replace  them. 

Her  master,  Captain  N ,  a  handsome,  dashing  officer, 

who  had  served  many  years  in  India,  still  maintained  the  car 
riage  and  appearance  of  a  gentleman,  in  spite  of  his  mental 
and  moral  degradation,  arising  from  a  constant  state  of  intoxi 
cation  ;  he  still  promised  to  remunerate  at  some  future  day 
her  faithful  services ;  and  although  all  his  neighbours  well 
knew  that  his  means  were  exhausted,  and  that  that  day  would 
never  come,  yet  Jenny,  in  the  simplicity  of  her  faith,  still 
toiled  on,  in  the  hope  that  the  better  day  he  spoke  of  would 
soon  arrive. 

And  now  a  few  words  respecting  this  master,  which  I  trust 
may  serve  as  a  warning  to  others.  Allured  by  the  bait  that 


THE  WALK  TO  SUMMER.  173 

has  been  the  ruin  of  so  many  of  his  class,  the  offer  of  a  large 
grant  of  land,  Captain  N had  been  induced  to  form  a  set 
tlement  in  this  remote  and  untried  township ;  laying  out 
much,  if  not  all,  of  his  available  means  in  building  a  log 
house,  and  clearing  a  large  extent  of  barren  and  stony  land. 
To  this  uninviting  home  he  conveyed  a  beautiful  young  wife, 
and  a  small  and  increasing  family.  The  result  may  be  easily 
anticipated.  The  want  of  society — a  dreadful  want  to  a  man 
of  his  previous  habits — the  total  absence  of  all  the  comforts 
and  decencies  of  life,  produced  inaction,  apathy,  and  at  last, 
despondency,  which  was  only  alleviated  by  a  constant  and 

immoderate  use  of  ardent  spirits.    As  long  as  Captain  N 

retained  his  half  pay,  he  contrived  to  exist.  In  an  evil  hour 
he  parted  with  this,  and  quickly  trod  the  down-hill  path  to 
ruin. 

And  here  I  would  remark  that  it  is  always  a  rash  and 
hazardous  step  for  any  officer  to  part  with  his  half  pay ; 
although  it  is  almost  every  day  done,  and  generally  followed 
by  the  same  disastrous  results.  A  certain  income,  however 
small,  in  a  country  where  money  is  so  hard  to  be  procured, 
and  where  labour  cannot  be  attained  but  at  a  very  high  pecu 
niary  remuneration,  is  invaluable  to  a  gentleman  unaccus 
tomed  to  agricultural  employment ;  who,  without  this  reserve 
to  pay  his  people,  during  the  brief  but  expensive  seasons  of 
seed-time  and  harvest,  must  either  work  himself  or  starve.  I 
have  known  no  instance  in  which  such  sale  has  been  attended 
with  ultimate  advantage ;  but,  alas !  too  many  in  which  it 
has  terminated  in  the  most  distressing  destitution.  These 
government  grants  of  land,  to  half-pay  officers,  have  induced 
numbers  of  this  class  to  emigrate  to  the  backwoods  of  Canada, 
who  are  totally  unfit  for  pioneers  ;  but,  tempted  by  the  offer 
of  finding  themselves  landholders  of  what,  on  paper,  appear 
to  them  fine  estates,  they  resign  a  certainty,  to  waste  their 


174  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

energies,  and  die  half-starved  and  broken-hearted  in  the  depths 
of  the  pitiless  wild. 

If  a  gentleman  so  situated  would  give  up  all  idea  of  settling 
on  his  grant,  but  hire  a  good  farm  in  a  favourable  situation — 
that  is,  not  too  far  from  a  market — and  with  his  half  pay  hire 
efficient  labourers,  of  which  plenty  are  now  to  be  had,  to  cul 
tivate  the  land,  with  common  prudence  and  economy,  he 
would  soon  obtain  a  comfortable  subsistence  for  his  family. 
And  if  the  males  were  brought  up  to  share  the  burden  and 
heat  of  the  day,  the  expense  of  hired  labour,  as  it  yearly 
diminished,  would  add  to  the  general  means  and  well-being 
of  the  whole,  until  the  hired  farm  became  the  real  property 
of  the  industrious  tenants.  But  the  love  of  show,  the  vain 
boast  of  appearing  richer  and  better  dressed  than  our  neigh 
bours,  too  often  involves  the  emigrant's  family  in  debt,  from 
which  they  are  seldom  able  to  extricate  themselves  without 
sacrificing  the  means  which  would  have  secured  their  inde 
pendence. 

This,  although  a  long  digression,  will  not,  I  hope,  be  with 
out  its  use ;  and  if  this  book  is  regarded  not  as  a  work  of 
amusement  but  one  of  practical  experience,  written  for  the 
benefit  of  others,  it  will  not  fail  to  convey  some  useful  hints 
to  those  who  have  contemplated  emigration  to  Canada :  the 
best  country  in  the  world  for  the  industrious  and  well-princi 
pled  man,  who  really  comes  out  to  work,  and  to  better  his 
condition  by  the  labour  of  his  hands  ;  but  a  gulf  of  ruin  to  the 
vain  and  idle,  who  only  set  foot  upon  these  shores  to  accele 
rate  their  ruin. 

But  to  return  to  Captain  N .  It  was  at  this  disastrous 

period  that  Jenny  entered  his  service.  Had  her  master 
adapted  his  habits  and  expenditure  to  his  altered  circumstances, 
much  misery  might  have  been  spared,  both  to  himself  and  his 
family.  But  he  was  a  proud  man — -too  proud  to  work,  or  to- 


THE  WALK  TO  DUMMER.  175 

receive  with  kindness  the  offers  of  service  tendered  to  him  by 
his  half-civilized,  but  well-meaning  neighbours. 

"  Hang  him !"  cried  an  indignant  English  settler  (Captain 

N wras  an  Irishman),  whose  offer  of  drawing  wood  had 

been  rejected  with  unmerited  contempt.  "  Wait  a  few  years 
and  we  shall  see  what  his  pride  will  do  for  him.  I  am  sorry 
for  his  poor  wife  and  children ;  but  for  himself,  I  have  no  pity 
for  him." 

This  man  had  been  uselessly  insulted,  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  was  anxious  to  perform  a  kind  and  benevolent  action ; 
wrhen,  like  a  true  Englishman,  his  heart  was  softened  by 
witnessing  the  sufferings  of  a  young  delicate  female  and  her 
infant  family.  Deeply  affronted  by  the  Captain's  foolish  con- 
duct,  he  now  took  a  malignant  pleasure  in  watching  his  arro 
gant  neighbour's  progress  to  ruin. 

The  year  after  the  sale  of  his  commission,  Captain  N 

found  himself  considerably  in  debt,  "  Never  mind,  Ella,"  he 
said  to  his  anxious  wife ;.  "  the  crops  will  pay  all." 

The  crops  were  a  failure  that  year.  Creditors  pressed 
hard ;  the  Captain  had  no  money  to  pay  his  workmen,  and  he 
would  not  work  himself.  Disgusted  with  his  location,  but 
unable  to  change  it  for  a  better  ;  without  friends  of  his  own 
class  (for  he  was  the  only  gentleman  then  resident  in  the  new 
township),  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  his  existence  with  their 
society,  or  to  afford  him  advice  or  assistance  in  his  difficul 
ties,  the  fatal  whiskey-bottle  became  his  refuge  from  gloomy 
thoughts. 

His  wife,  an  amiable  and  devoted  creature,  well  born,  well 
educated,  and  deserving  of  a  better  lot,  did  all  in  her  power 
to  wean  him  from  the  growing  vice.  But,  alas !  the  plead 
ings  of  an  angel,  in  such  circumstances,  would  have  had  little 
effect  upon  the  mind  of  such  a  man.  He  loved  her  as  well 
as  he  could  love  any  thing,  and  he  fancied  that  he  loved  his. 


ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  3VS&. 

children,  while  he  was  daily  reducing  them,  by  his  favourite 
vice,  to  beggary. 

For  awhile,  he  confined  his  excesses  to  his  own  fireside, 
but  this  was  only  for  as  long  a  period  as  the  sale  of  his  stock 
and  land  would  supply  him  with  the  means  of  criminal  indul 
gence.  After  a  time,  all  these  resources  failed,  and  his  large 
grant  of  eight  hundred  acres  of  land  had  been  converted  into 
whiskey,  except  the  one  hundred  acres  on  which  his  house 
and  barn  stood,  embracing  the  small  clearing  from  which  the 
family  derived  their  scanty  supply  of  wheat  and  potatoes.  For 
the  sake  of  peace,  his  wife  gave  up  all  her  ornaments  and 
household  plate,  and  the  best  articles  of  a  once  handsome  and 
ample  wardrobe,  in  the  hope  of  hiding  her  sorrows  from  the 
world,  and  keeping  her  husband  at  home. 

The  pride,  that  had  rendered  him  so  obnoxious  to  his 
humbler  neighbours,  yielded  at  length  to  the  inordinate  craving 
for  drink ;  the  man  who  had  held  himself  so  high  above  his 
honest  and  industrious  fellow-settlers,  could  now  unblushingly 
enter  their  cabins  and  beg  for  a  drop  of  whiskey.  The  feel 
ing  of  shame  once  subdued,  there  was  no  end  to  his  audacious 
mendicity.  His  whole  time  was  spent  in  wandering  about 
the  country,  calling  upon  every  new  settler,  in  the  hope  of 
being  asked  to  partake  of  the  coveted  poison.  He  was  even 
known  to  enter  by  the  window  of  an  emigrant's  cabin,  during 
the  absence  of  the  owner,  and  remain  drinking  in  the  house 
while  a  drop  of  spirits  could  be  found  in  the  cupboard.  When 
driven  forth  by  the  angry  owner  of  the  hut,  he  wandered  on 

to  the  distant  town  of  P ,  and  lived  there  in  a  low  tavern, 

while  his  wrife  and  children  were  starving  at  home. 

"  He  is  the  filthiest  beast  in  the  township,"  said  the  afore 
mentioned  neighbour  to  me ;  "  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  his 
wife  and  children  if  his  worthless  neck  were  broken  in  one  of 
his  drunken  sprees." 


THE  WALK  TO  DVMMER.  177 

This  might  be  the  melancholy  fact,  but  it  was  not  the  less 
dreadful  on  that  account.  The  husband  of  an  affectionate  wife 
—the  father  of  a  lovely  family — and  his  death  to  be  a  matter 
of  rejoicing ! — a  blessing,  instead  of  being  an  affliction  V — an 
agony  not  to  be  thought  upon  without  the  deepest  sorrow. 

It  was  at  this  melancholy  period  of  her  sad  history  that 

Mrs.  N found,  in  Jenny  Buchanan,  a  help  in  her  hour  of 

need.  The  heart  of  the  faithful  creature  bled  for  the  misery 
which  involved  the  wife  of  her  degraded  master,  and  the 
children  she  so  dearly  loved.  Their  want  and  destitution 
called  all  the  sympathies  of  her  ardent  nature  into  active 
operation ;  they  were  long  indebted  to  her  labour  for  every 
morsel  of  food  which  they  consumed.  For  them,  she  sowed, 
she  planted,  she  reaped.  Every  block  of  wood  which  shed  a 
cheering  warmth  around  their  desolate  home  was  cut  from 
the  forest  by  her  own  hands,  and  brought  up  a  steep  hill 
to  the  house  upon  her  back.  For  them,  she  coaxed  the 
neighbours,  with  whom  she  was  a  general  favourite,  out  of 
many  a  mess  of  eggs  for  their  especial  benefit ;  while  with 
her  cheerful  songs,  and  hearty,  hopeful  disposition,  she  dis 
pelled  much  of  the  cramping  despair  which  chilled  the  heart 
of  the  unhappy  mother  in  her  deserted  home. 

For  several  years  did  this  great,  poor  woman  keep  the 
wolf  from  the  door  of  her  beloved  mistress,  toiling  for  her 
with  the  strength  and  energy  of  a  man.  When  was  man  ever 
so  devoted,  so  devoid  of  all  selfishness,  so  attached  to  employ, 
ers,  yet  poorer  than  herself,  as  this  uneducated  Irishwoman  ? 

A  period  was  at  length  put  to  her  unrequited  services. 
In  a  fit  of  intoxication  her  master  beat  her  severely  with  the 
iron  ramrod  of  his  gun,  and  turned  her,  with  abusive  lan 
guage,  from  his  doors.  Oh,  hard  return  for  all  her  unpaid 
labours  of  love  !  She  forgave  this  outrage  for  the  sake  of  the 
helpless  beings  who  depended  upon  her  care.  He  repeated 
VOL,  u,  8* 


178  Rauamm  IT  izr  THE 

the  injury,  and  the  poor  creature  returned  almost  heart- 
broken  to  her  former  home. 

Thinking  that  his  spite  would  subside  in  a  few  days,  Jenny 
made  a  third  effort  to  enter  his  house  in  her  usual  capacity ; 

but  Mrs.  N told  her,  with  many  tears,  that  her  presence 

would  only  enrage  her  husband,  who  had  threatened  herself 
with  the  most  cruel  treatment  if  she  allowed  the  faithful  ser 
vant  again  to  enter  the  house.  Thus  ended  her  five  years' 
service  to  this  ungrateful  master.  Such  was  her  reward ! 

I  heard  of  Jenny's  worth  and  kindness  from  the  English 
man  who  had  been  so  grievously  affronted  by  Captain  N , 

and  sent  for  her  to  come  to  me.  She  instantly  accepted  my 
offer,  and  returned  with  my  messenger.  She  had  scarcely  a 
garment  to  cover  her.  I  was  obliged  to  find  her  a  suit  of 
clothes  before  I  could  set  her  to  work.  The  smiles  and  dim 
ples  of  my  curly-headed,  rosy  little  Donald,  then  a  baby-boy 
of  fifteen  months,  consoled  the  old  woman  for  her  separation 

from  Ellie  N ;  and  the  good-will  with  which  all  the 

children  (now  four  in  number)  regarded  the  kind  old  body, 
soon  endeared  to  her  the  new  home  which  Providence  had 
assigned  to  her. 

Her  accounts  of  Mrs.  N ,  and  her  family,  soon  deeply 

interested  me  in  her  fate  ;  and  Jenny  never  went  to  visit  her 
friends  in  Dummer  without  an  interchange  of  good  wishes 
passing  between  us. 

The  year  of  the  Canadian  rebellion  came,  and  brought 
with  it  sorrow  into  many  a  bush  dwelling.  Old  Jenny  and 
I  were  left  alone  with  the  little  children,  in  the  depths  of 
the  dark  forest,  to  help  ourselves  in  the  best  way  we  could. 
Men  could  not  be  procured  in  that  thinly-settled  spot  for 
love  nor  money,  and  I  now  fully  realized  the  extent  of  Jen 
ny's  usefulness.  Daily  she  yoked  the  oxen,  and  brought  down 
from  the  bush  fuel  to  maintain  our  fires,  which  she  felled  and. 


WALK  TO  DUMMER.  179: 

chopped  up  with  her  own  hands.  She  fed  the  cattle,  and  kept 
all  things  snug  about  the  doors ;  not  forgetting  to  load  her 
master's  two  guns,  "  in  case,"  as  she  said,  "  the  ribels  should 
attack  us  in  our  retrate." 

The  months  of  November  and  December  of  1838  had  been 
unnaturally  mild  for  this  iron  climate ;  but  the  opening  of  the 
ensuing  January  brought  a  short  but  severe  spell  of  frost  and 
snow.  We  felt  very  lonely  in  our  solitary  dwelling,  crouching 
round  the  blazing  fire,  that  scarcely  chased  the  cold  from  our 
miserable  log  tenement,  until  this  dreary  period  was  suddenly 
cheered  by  the  unexpected  presence  of  my  beloved  friend, 
Emilia,  who  came  to  spend  a  week  with  me  in  my  forest 
home. 

She  brought  her  own  baby-boy  with  her,  and  an  ample  sup 
ply  of  buffalo  robes,  not  forgetting  a  treat  of  baker's  bread, 
and  "  sweeties"  for  the  children.  Oh,  dear  Emilia  !  best  and 
kindest  of  women,  though  absent  in  your  native  land,  long, 
long  shall  rny  heart  cherish  with  affectionate  gratitude  all  your 
visits  of  love,  and  turn  to  you  as  to  a  sister,  tried,  and  found 
most  faithful,  in  the  dark  hour  of  adversity,  and  amidst  the 
almost  total  neglect  of  those  from  whom  nature  claimed  a 
tenderer  and  holier  sympathy. 

Great  was  the  joy  of  Jenny  at  this  accession  to  our  family 
party ;  and  after  Mrs.  S was  well  warmed,  and  had  par 
taken  of  tea — the  only  refreshment  we  could  offer  her — we 
began  to  talk  over  the  news  of  the  place. 

"  By  the  by,  Jenny,"  said  she,  turning  to  the  old  servant, 
who  was  undressing  the  little  boy  by  the  fire,  "  have  you  heard 

lately  from  poor  Mrs.  N ?  We  have  been  told  that  she 

and  the  family  are  in  a  dreadful  state  of  destitution.  That 
worthless  man  has  left  them  for  the  States,  and  it  is  supposed 
that  he  has  joined  Mackenzie's  band  of  ruffians  on  Navy 
Island  j  but  whether  this.be  true  or  false,,  he  has  deserted  his 


1 80  R  o  mmm  IT  IN  THE  B  USK. 

wife  and  children,  taking  his  eldest  son  along  with  him  (who 
might  have  been  of  some  service  at  home),  and  leaving  them 
without  money  or  food." 

"  The  good  Lord  !  What  will  become  of  the  crathurs  ?" 
responded  Jenny,  wiping  her  wrinkled  cheek  with  the  back  of 
her  hard,  brown  hand.  "  An'  thin  they  have  not  a  sowl  to 
chop  and  draw  them  firewood ;  an'  the  weather  so  oncommon 
savare.  Och  hone  !  what  has  not  that  baste  of  a  man  to  answer 

for  r 

"  I  heard,"  continued  Mrs.  S ,  "  that  they  have  tasted 

no  food  but  potatoes  for  the  last  nine  months,  and  scarcely 
enough  of  them  to  keep  soul  and  body  together ;  that  they 
have  sold  their  last  cow ;  and  the  poor  young  lady  and  her 
second  brother,  a  lad  of  only  twelve  years  old,  bring  all  the 
wood  for  the  fire  from  the  bush  on  a  hand-sleigh." 

"  Oh,  dear ! — oh,  dear !"  sobbed  Jenny  ;  "  an'  I  not  there 
to  hilp  them !  An'  poor  Miss  Mary,  the  tinder  thing !  Oh,  'tin 
hard,  terribly  hard  for  the  crathurs  !  an'  they  not  used  to  the 
like." 

"  Can  nothing  be  done  for  them  ?"  said  I. 

"  That  is  what  we  want  to  know,"  returned  Emilia,  "  and 

that  was  one  of  my  reasons  for  coming  up  to  D .     I 

wanted  to  consult  you  and  Jenny  upon  the  subject.  You. 
who  are  an  officer's  wife,  and  I,  who  am  both  an  officer's  wiff 
and  daughter,  ought  to  devise  some  plan  of  rescuing  thit 
unfortunate  lady  and  her  family  from  her  present  forlorzj 
situation." 

The  tears  sprang  to  my  eyes,  and  I  thought,  in  the  bitter 
ness  of  my  heart,  upon  my  own  galling  poverty,  that  m- 
pockets  did  not  contain  even  a  single  copper,  and  that  I  har 
scarcely  garments  enough  to  shield  me  from  the  inclemenc} 
of  the  weather.  By  unflinching  industry,  and  taking  my  part 
ia  the  toil  of  the  field,  I  had  bread  for  myself  and  family,  and 


Tins  WALK  TO  DUMMEH.  181 

this  was  more  than  poor  Mrs.  N possessed  ;  but  it  ap 
peared  impossible  for  me  to  be  of  any  assistance  to  the  un 
happy  sufferer,  and  the  thought  of  my  incapacity  gave  me 
severe  pain.  It  was  only  in  moments  like  the  present  that  I 
felt  the  curse  of  poverty. 

"  Well,"  continued  my  friend,  "  you'  see,  Mrs.  Moodie, 

that  the  ladies  of  P are  all  anxious  to  do  what  they  can 

for  her  ;  but  they  first  want  to  learn  if  the  miserable  circum 
stances  in  which  she  is  said  to  be  placed  are  true.  In  short, 
my  dear  friend,  they  want  you  and  me  to  make  a  pilgrimage 
to  Dummer,  to  see  the  poor  lady  herself;  and  then  they  will 
be  guided  by  our  report." 

"  Then  let  us  lose  no  time  in  going  upon  our  own  mission 
of  mercy." 

"  Och,  my  dear  heart,  you  will  be  lost  in  the  woods !"  said 
old  Jenny.  "  It  is  nine  long  miles  to  the  first  clearing,  and 
that  through  a  lonely,  blazed  path.  After  you  are  through 
the  beaver-meadow,  there  is  not  a  single  hut  for  you  to  rest 
or  warm  yourselves.  It  is  too  much  for  the  both  of  yees ; 
you  will  be  frozen  to  death  on  the  road." 

"  No  fear,"  said  my  benevolent  friend ;  "  God  will  take 
care  of  us,  Jenny.  It  is  on  His  errand  we  go ;  to  carry  a 
message  of  hope  to  one  about  to  perish." 

"  The  Lord  bless  you  for  a  darlint,"  cried  the  old  woman, 
devoutly  kissing  the  velvet  cheek  of  the  little  fellow  sleeping 
upon  her  lap.  "  May  your  own  purty  child  never  know  the 
want  and  sorrow  that  is  around  her." 

Emilia  and  I  talked  over  the  Dummer  scheme  until  we 
fell  asleep.  Many  were  the  plans  we  proposed  for  the  imme 
diate  relief  of  the  unfortunate  family.  Early  the  next  morn 
ing,  my  brother-in-law,  Mr.  T ,  called  upon  my  friend. 

The  subject  next  our  heart  was  immediately  introduced,  and 
he  was  called  into  the  general  council.  His  feelings,  like  our 


182  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  ZUSff. 

own,  were  deeply  interested ;  and  he  proposed  that  we  should 
each  provide  something  from  our  own  small  stores  to  satisfy 
the  pressing  wants  of  the  distressed  family ;  while  he  prom 
ised  to  bring  his  cutter  the  next  morning,  and  take  us  through 
the  beaver-meadow,  and  to  the  edge  of  the  great  swamp, 
which  would  shorten  four  miles,  at  least,  of  our  long  and 
hazardous  journey. 

We  joyfully  acceded  to  his  proposal,  and  set  cheerfully  to 
wrork  to  provide  for  the  morrow.  Jenny  baked  a  batch  of 
her  very  best  bread,  and  boiled  a  large  piece  of  beef;  and 

Mr.  T brought  with  him,  the  next  day,  a  fine  cooked 

ham,  in  a  sack,  into  the  bottom  of  which  he  stowed  the  beef 
and  loaves,  besides  some  sugar  and  tea,  which  his  own  kind 
wife,  the  author  of  "  The  Backwoods  of  Canada,"  had  sent.  I 
had  some  misgivings  as  to  the  manner  in  which  these  good 
things  could  be  introduced  to  the  poor  lady,  who,  I  had  heard, 
was  reserved  and  proud. 

'  "  Oh,  Jenny,"  I  said,  "  how  shall  I  be  able  to  ask  her  to 
accept  provisions  from  strangers  2  I  am  afraid  of  wounding 
her  feelings." 

"  Oh,  darlint,  never  fear  that !  She  is  proud,  I  know ;  but 
'tis  not  a  stiff  pride,  but  jist  enough  to  consale  her  disthress 
from  her  ignorant  English  neighbours,  who  think  so  inanely 
of  poor  folk  like  her  who  were  once  rich.  She  will  be  very 
thankful  to  you  for  your  kindness,  for  she  has  not  experienced 
much  of  it  from  the  Dummer  people  in  her  throuble,  though 
she  may  have  no  words  to  tell  you  so.  Say  that  old  Jenny 
sent  the  bread  to  dear  wee  Ellie,  'cause  she  knew  she  would 
like  a  loaf  of  Jenny's  bakin'." 
.  "  But  the  meat." 

"  Och,  the  mate,  is  it  ?     Maybe,  you'll  think  of  some  ex- 
cuse  for  the  mate  when  you  get  there." 
-.."I  hope  so  j  but  L'm.a  sad  coward  with  .strangers,  and  J  . 


:TSE  WALK  TO  DUMBER.  183 

have  lived  so  long  out  of  the  world  that  I  am  at  a  great  loss 
what  to  do.  I  will  try  and  put  a  good  face  on  the  matter. 
Your  name,  Jenny,  will  be  no  small  help  to  me." 

All  was  now  ready.  Kissing  our  little  bairns,  who  crowd 
ed  around  us  with  eager  and  inquiring  looks,  and  charging 
Jenny  for  the  hundredth  time  to  take  especial  care  of  them 
during  our  absence,  we  mounted  the  cutter,  and  set  off,  under 
the  care  and  protection  of  Mr.  T ,  who  determined  to  ac 
company  us  on  the  journey. 

It  was  a  black,  cold  day ;  no  sun  visible  in  the  gray,  dark 
sky;  a  keen,  cutting  wind,  and  hard  frost.  We  crouched 
close  to  each  other. 

"Good  heavens,  how  cold  it  is!"  whispered  Emilia. 
"  What  a  day  for  such  a  journey !" 

She  had  scarcely  ceased  speaking,  when  the  cutter  went 
upon  a  stump  which  lay  concealed  under  the  drifted  snow ; 
and  we,  together  with  the  ruins  of  our  conveyance,  were  scat 
tered  around. 

"  A  bad  beginning,"  said  my  brother-in-law,  with  a  rueful 
aspect,  as  he  surveyed  the  wreck  of  the  cutter  from  which  we 
had  promised  ourselves  so  much  benefit.  "  There  is  no  help 
for  it  but  to  return  home." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Mrs.  S ;  "  bad  beginnings  make  good 

endings,  you  know.  Let  us  go  on ;  it  will  be  far  better  walk 
ing  than  riding  such  a  dreadful  day.  My  feet  are  half  frozen 
already  with  sitting  still." 

"  But,  my  dear  madam,"  expostulated  Mr.  T ,  "  con 
sider  the  distance,  the  road,  the  dark,  dull  day,  and  our  im 
perfect  knowledge  of  the  path.  I  will  get  the  cutter  mended 
to-morrow ;  and  the  day  after  we  may  be  able  to  proceed." 

"  Delays  are  dangerous,"  said  the  pertinacious  Emilia,  who, 
woman-like,  was  determined  to  have  her  own  way.  "  Now, 
or  never.  While  we  wait  for  the  broken  cutter,  the  broken- 


184  nouamNQ-  IT  IN  THE 

hearted  Mrs.  N may  starve.     We  can  stop  at  Colonel 

C 's  and  warm  ourselves,  and  you  can  leave  the  cutter  at 

his  house  until  our  return." 

"  It  was  upon  your  account  that  I  proposed  the  delay," 
said  the  good  Mr.  T ,  taking  the  sack,  which  was  no  in 
considerable  weight,  upon  his  shoulder,  and  driving  his  horse 

before  him  into  neighbour  W 's  stable.     "  Where  you 

go,  I  am  ready  to  follow." 

When  we  arrived,  Colonel  C — — 's  family  were  at  break 
fast,  of  which  they  made  us  partake ;  and  after  vainly  en 
deavouring  to  dissuade  us  from  what  appeared  to  them  our 

Quixotic  expedition,  Mrs.  C added  a  dozen  fine  white  fish 

to  the  contents  of  the  sack,  and  sent  her  youngest  son  to  help 

Mr.  T along  with  his  burthen,  and  to  bear  us  company 

on  our  desolate  road. 

Leaving  the  Colonel's  hospitable  house  on  our  left,  we 
again  plunged  into  the  woods,  and  after  a  few  minutes'  brisk 
walking,  found  ourselves  upon  the  brow  of  a  steep  bank  that 
overlooked  the  beaver-meadow,  containing  within  its  area 
several  hundred  acres. 

There  is  no  scenery  in  the  bush  that  presents  such  a  novel 
appearance  as  those  meadows,  or  openings,  surrounded,  as 
they  invariably  are,  by  dark,  intricate  forests ;  their  high, 
rugged  banks  covered  with  the  light,  airy  tamarack  and  silver 
birch.  In  summer  they  look  like  a  lake  of  soft,  rich  verdure, 
hidden  in  the  bosom  of  the  barren  and  howling  waste.  Lakes 
they  certainly  have  been,  from  which  the  waters  have  rece 
ded,  "  ages,  ages  long  ago  ;"  and  still  the  whole  length  of  these 
curious  level  valleys  is  traversed  by  a  stream,  of  no  inconsid 
erable  dimensions. 

The  waters  of  the  narrow,  rapid  creek,  which  flowed 
through  the  meadow  we  were  about  to  cross,  were  of  spark 
ling  brightness,  arid  icy  cold.  The  frost-king  had  no  power 


THE  WALK  TO  DUMMJSR.  185 

to  check  their  swift,  dancing  movements,  or  stop  their  per 
petual  song.  On  they  leaped,  sparkling  and  flashing  beneath 
their  ice-crowned  banks,  rejoicing  as  they  revelled  on  in  their 
lonely  course.  In  the  prime  of  the  year,  this  is  a  wild  and 
lovely  spot,  the  grass  is  of  the  richest  green,  and  the  flowers 
of  the  most  gorgeous  dyes.  The  gayest  butterflies  float 
above  them  upon  painted  wings ;  and  the  whip-poor-will 
pours  forth  from  the  neighbouring  woods,  at  close  of  dewy 
eve,  his  strange  but  sadly  plaintive  cry.  Winter  was  now 
upon  the  earth,  and  the  once  green  meadow  looked  like  a 
small  forest  lake  covered  with  snow. 

The  first  step  we  made  into  it  plunged  us  up  to  the  knees 
in  the  snow,  which  was  drifted  to  a  great  height  in  the  open 

space.  Mr.  T and  our  young  friend  C walked  on 

ahead  of  us,  in  order  to  break  a  track  through  the  untrodden 
snow.  We  soon  reached  the  cold  creek ;  but  here  a  new 
difficulty  presented  itself.  It  was  too  wide  to  jump  across, 
and  we  could  see  no  other  way  of  passing  to  the  other  side. 

"  There  must  'be  some  sort  of  a  bridge  hereabout,"  said 

young  C ,  "  or  how  can  the  people  from  Dummer  pass 

constantly  during  the  winter  to  and  fro.  I  will  go  along  the 
bank,  and  halloo  to  you  if  I  find  one." 

In  a  few  minutes  he  gave  the  desired  signal,  and  on  reach 
ing  the  spot,  we  found  a  round,  slippery  log  flung  across  the 
stream  by  way  of  bridge.  With  some  trouble,  and  after 
various  slips,  we  got  safely  on  the  other  side.  To  wet  our 
feet  would  have  been  to  ensure  their  being  frozen  ;  and  as  it 
was,  we  were  not  without  serious  apprehensions  on  that  score. 
After  crossing  the  bleak,  snowy  plain,  we  scrambled  over 
another  brook,  and  entered  the  great  swamp,  which  occupied 
two  miles  of  our  dreary  road. 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  giving  any  description  of  this 
tangled  maze  of  closely-interwoven  cedars,  fallen  trees,  and 


186  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  JBUSH. 

loose-scattered  masses  of  rock.  It  seemed  the  fitting  abode 
of  wolves  and  bears,  and  every  other  unclean  beast.  The  fire 
had  run  through  it  during  the  summer,  making  the  confusion 
doubly  confused.  Now  we  stopped,  half  doubled,  to  crawl 
under  fallen  branches  that  hung  over  our  path,  then  again  we 
had  to  clamber  over  prostrate  trees  of  great  bulk,  descending 
from  which  we  plumped  down  into  holes  in  the  snow,  sinking 
mid-leg  into  the  rotten  trunk  of  some  treacherous,  decayed 
pine-tree.  Before  we  were  half  through  the  great  swamp,  we 
began  to  think  ourselves  sad  fools,  and  to  wish  that  we  were 
safe  again  by  our  own  firesides.  But,  then,  a  great  object  was 
in  view, — the  relief  of  a  distressed  fellow-creature,  and  like 
the  "  full  of  hope,  misnamed  forlorn,"  we  determined  to  over 
come  every  difficulty,  and  toil  on. 

It  took  us  an  hour  at  least  to  clear  the  great  swamp,  from 
which  we  emerged  into  a  fine  wood,  composed  chiefly  of 
maple-trees.  The  sun  had,  during  our  immersion  in  the  dark 
shades  of  the  swamp,  burst  through  his  leaden  shroud,  and 
cast  a  cheery  gleam  along  the  rugged  boles  of  the  lofty  trees. 
The  squirrel  and  chissmunk  occasionally  bounded  across 
our  path ;  the  dazzling  snow  which  covered  it  reflected  the 
branches  above  us  in  an  endless  variety  of  dancing  shadows. 

Our  spirits  rose  in  proportion.  Young  C burst  out  sing 

ing,  and  Emilia  and  I  laughed  and  chatted  as  we  bounded 
along  our  narrow  road.  On,  on  for  hours,  the  same  intermi 
nable  forest  stretched  away  to  the  right  and  left,  before  and 
behind  us. 

"  It  is  past  twelve,"  said  my  brother  T ,  thoughtfully ; 

"  if  we  do  not  soon  come  to  a  clearing,  we  may  chance  to 
spend  the  night  in  the  forest. 

"  Oh,  I  am  dying  with  hunger,"  cried  Emilia.  "  Do,  C , 

give  us  one  or  two  of  the  cakes  your  mother  put  into  the  bag 
fqr  us  to  eat  upon  the  road." 


;    THE  WALK  TO  SUMMER.  1ST 

The  ginger-cakes  were  instantly  produced.  But  where 
were  the  teeth  to  be  found  that  could  masticate  them  ?  The 
cakes  were  frozen  as  hard  as  stones ;  this  was  a  great  disap 
pointment  to  us  tired  and  hungry  wights ;  but  it  only  produced 
a  hearty  laugh.  Over  the"  logs  we  went  again ;  for  it  was  a 
perpetual  stepping  up  and  down,  crossing  the  fallen  trees  that 
obstructed  our  path.  At  last  we  came  to  a  spot  where  two 
distinct  blazed  roads  diverged. 

"  What  are  we  to  do  now  1"  said  Mr.  T . 

"We  stopped,  and  a  general  consultation  was  held,  and 
without  one  dissenting  voice  we  took  the  branch  to  the  right, 
which,  after  pursuing  for  about  half-a-mile,  led  us  to  a  log  hut 
of  the  rudest  description. 

"  Is  this  the  road  to  Dummer  1"  we  asked  a  man,  who  was 
chopping  wood  outside  the  fence. 

"  I  guess  you  are  in  Dummer  ?"  was  the  answer. 

My  heart  leaped  for  joy,  for  I  was  dreadfully  fatigued. 

"  Does  this  road  lead  through  the  English  Line  1" 

"  That's  another  thing,"  returned  the  woodman.  "  No ; 
you  turned  off  from  the  right  path  when  you  came  up  here." 
We  all  looked  very  blank  at  each  other.  "  You  will  have  to 
go  back,  and  keep  the  other  road,  and  that  will  lead  you 
straight  to  the  English  Line." 

"  How  many  miles  is  it  to  Mrs.  N 's  ?" 

"  Some  four,  or  thereabouts,"  was  the  cheering  rejoinder. 
"  'Tis  one  of  the  last  clearings  on  the  line.  If  you  are  going 
back  to  Douro  to-night,  you  must  look  sharp." 

Sadly  and  dejectedly  we  retraced  our  steps.  There  are 
few  trifling  failures  more  bitter  in  our  journey  through  life 
than  that  of  a  tired  traveller  mistaking  his  road.  What  effect 
must  that  tremendous  failure  produce  upon  the  human  mind, 
when,  at  the  end  of  life's  unretraceable  journey,  the  traveller 
finds  that  he  has  fallen  upqn  the  wrong  track  through  every- 


188  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  TEE  BVSH. 

stage,  and  instead  of  arriving  at  the  land  of  blissful  promise, 
sinks  for  ever  into  the  gulf  of  despair ! 

The  distance  we  had  trodden  in  the  wrong  path,  while  led 
on  by  hope  and  anticipation,  now  seemed  to  double  in  length, 
as  with  painful  steps  we  toiled  on  to  reach  the  right  road. 
This  object  once  attained,  soon  led  us  to  the  dwellings  of  men. 

Neat,  comfortable  log  houses,  surrounded  by  well-fenced 
patches  of  clearing,  arose  on  either  side  of  the  forest  road ; 
dogs  flew  out  and  barked  at  us,  and  children  ran  shouting  in 
doors  to  tell  their  respective  owners  that  strangers  were  pass 
ing  their  gates  ;  a  most  unusual  circumstance,  I  should  think, 
in  that  location. 

A  servant  who  had  hired  two  years  with  my  brother-in-law,' 
we  knew  must  live  somewhere  in  this  neighbourhood,  at 
whose  fireside  we  hoped  not  only  to  rest  and  warm  ourselves, 
but  to  obtain  something  to  eat.  On  going  up  to  one  of  the 

cabins  to  inquire  for  Hannah  J ,  we  fortunately  happened 

to  light  upon  the  very  person  we  sought.  With  many  excla 
mations  of  surprise,  she  ushered  us  into  her  neat  and  comfort 
able  log  dwelling. 

A  blazing  fire,  composed  of  two  huge  logs,  was  roaring  up 
the  wide  chimney,  aiid  the  savoury  smell  that  issued  from  a 
large  pot  of  pea-soup  was  very  agreeable  to  our  cold  and 
hungry  stomachs.  But,  alas,  the  refreshment  went  no  further ! 
Hannah  most  politely  begged  us  to  take  seats  by  the  fire,  and 
warm  and  rest  ourselves;  she  even  knelt  down  and  assisted 
in  rubbing  our  half-frozen  hands ;  but  she  never  once  made 
mention  of  the  hot  soup,  or  of  the  tea,  which  was  drawing  in 
a  tin  tea-pot  upon  the  hearth-stone,  or  of  a  glass  of  whiskey, 
which  would  have  been  thankfully  accepted  by  our  male 
pilgrims. 

Hannah  was  not  an  Irishwoman,  no,  nor  a  Scotch  lassie,  or 
her  very  first  request  would  have  been  for  us  to  take  "a 


THE  WALK  TO  DUMMEE.  189 

pickle  of  soup,"  or  "  a  sup  of  thae  warm  broths."  The  soup 
was  no  doubt  cooking  for  Hannah's  husband  and  two  neigh 
bours,  who  were  chopping  for  him  in  the  bush;  and  whose 
want  of  punctuality  she  feelingly  lamented. 

As  we  left  her  cottage,  and  jogged  on,  Emilia  whispered, 
laughing,  "  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  with  your  good  dinner  1 
Was  not  the  pea-soup  excellent  ? — and  that  cup  of  nice  hot 
tea ! — I  never  relished  any  thing  more  in  my  life.  I  think 
we  should  never  pass  that  house  without  giving  Hannah  a  call, 
and  testifying  our  gratitude  for  her  good  cheer." 

Many  times  did  we  stop  to  inquire  the  way  to  Mrs. 

N 's,  before  we  ascended  the  steep,  bleak  hill  upon  which 

her  house  stood.  At  the  door,  Mr.  T deposited  the  sack 

of  provisions,  and  he  and  young  C went  across  the  road 

to  the  house  of  an  English  settler  (who,  fortunately  for  them, 

proved  more  hospitable  than  Hannah  J ),  to  wait  until 

our  errand  was  executed.  » 

The  house  before  which  Emilia  and  I  were  standing  had 
once  been  a  tolerably  comfortable  log  dwelling.  It  was 
larger  than  such  buildings  generally  are,  and  was  surrounded 
by  dilapidated  barns  and  stables,  which  were  not  cheered  by 
a  solitary  head  of  cattle.  A  black  pine  forest  stretched  away 
to  the  north  of  the  house,  and  terminated  in  a  dismal,  tangled 
cedar  swamp,  the  entrance  to  the  house  not  having  been  con 
structed  to  face  the  road. 

The  spirit  that  had  borne  me  up  during  the  journey  died 
within  me.  I  was  fearful  that  my  visit  would  be  deemed  an 
impertinent  intrusion.  I  knew  not  in  what  manner  to  intro 
duce  myself,  and  my  embarrassment  had  been  greatly  in 
creased  by  Mrs.  S declaring  that  I  must  break  the  ice, 

for  she  had  not  courage  to  go  in.  I  remonstrated,  but  she 
was  firm.  To  hold  any  longer  parley  was  impossible.  We 
were  standing  on  the  top  of  a  bleak  hill,  with  the  thermometer 


1 90  BO  UGHING  IT  IN  THE  JB  VSR. 

,  many  degrees  below  zero,  and  exposed  to  the  fiercest  biting 
.  of  the  bitter,  cutting  blast.  With  a  heavy  sigh,  I  knocked 
slowly  but  decidedly  at  the  crazy  door.  I  saw  the  curly  head 
of  a  boy  glance  for  a  moment  against  the  broken  window. 
There  was  a  stir  within,  but  no  one  answered  our  summons. 
Emilia  was  rubbing  her  hands  together,  and  beating  a  rapid 
tattoo  with  her  feet  upon  the  hard  and  glittering  snow,  to  keep 
them  from  freezing. 

Again  I  appealed  to  the  inhospitable  door,  with  a  vehe 
mence  which  seemed  to  say,  "  We  are  freezing,  good  people ; 
in  mercy  let  us  in !" 

Again  there  was  a  stir,  and  a  whispered  sound  of  voices, 
as  if  in  consultation,  from  within ;  and  after  waiting  a  few 
minutes  longer — which,  cold  as  we  were,  seemed  an  age — 
the  door  was  cautiously  opened  by  a  handsome,  dark-eyed 
lad  of  twelve  years  of  age,  who  was  evidently  the  owner  of 
the  curly  head  that  had  been  sent  to  reconnoitre  us  through 
the  window.  Carefully  closing  the  door  after  him,  he  stepped 
out  upon  the  snow,  and  asked  us  coldly  but  respectfully  what 
we  wanted.  I  told  him  that  we  were  two  ladies,  who  had 
walked  all  the  way  from  Douro  to  see  his  mamma,  and  that 
we  wished  very  much  to  speak  to  her.  The  lad  answered  us, 
with  the  ease  and  courtesy  of  a  gentleman,  that  he  did  not 
know  whether  his  mamma  could  be  seen  by  strangers,  but  he 
would  go  in  and  see.  So  saying  he  abruptly  left  us,  leaving 
behind  him  an  ugly  skeleton  of  a  dog,  who,  after  expressing 
his  disapprobation  at  our  presence  in  the  most  disagreeable 
and  unequivocal  manner,  pounced  like  a  famished  wolf  upon 
the  sack  of  good  things  which  lay  at  Emilia's  feet ;  and  our 
united  efforts  could  scarcely  keep  him  off. 

"  A  cold,  doubtful  reception,  this !"  said  my  friend,  turning 
her  back  to  the  wind,  and  hiding  her  face  in  her  muff.  "  This 
is  worse  than  Hannah's  liberality,  and  the  long,  weary  walk." 


THE  WALK  TO  DUMMER.  191 

I  thought  so  too,  and  began  to  apprehend  that  our  walk 
had  been  in  vain,  when  the  lad  again  appeared,  and  said  that 
we  might  walk  in,  for  his  mother  was  dressed. 

Emilia,  true  to  her  determination,  went  no  farther  than 
the  passage.  In  vain  were  all  my  entreating  looks  and  mute 
appeals  to  her  benevolence  and  friendship;  I  was  forced 
to  enter  alone  the  apartment  that  contained  the  distressed 
family. 

I  felt  that  I  was  treading  upon  sacred  ground,  for  a  pitying 
angel  hovers  over  the  abode  of  suffering  virtue,  and  hallows 
all  its  woes.  On  a  rude  bench,  before  the  fire,  sat  a  lady, 
between  thirty  and  forty  years  of  age,  dressed  in  a  thin, 
coloured  muslin  gown,  the  most  inappropriate  garment  for 
the  rigour  of  the  season,  but,  in  all  probability,  the  only 
decent  one  that  she  retained.  A  subdued  melancholy  looked 
forth  from  her  large,  dark,  pensive  eyes.  She  appeared  like 
one  who,  having  discovered  the  full  extent  of  her  misery,  had 
proudly  steeled  her  heart  to  bear  it.  Her  countenance  was 
very  pleasing,  and,  in  early  life  (but  she  was  still  young),  she 
must  have  been  eminently  handsome.  Near  her,  with  her 
head  bent  down,  and  shaded  by  her  thin,  slender  hand,  her 
slight  figure  scarcely  covered  by  her  scanty  clothing,  sat  her 
eldest  daughter,  a  gentle,  sweet-looking  girl,  who  held  in  her 
arms  a  baby  brother,  whose  destitution  she  endeavoured  to 
conceal.  It  was  a  touching  sight ;  that  suffering  girl,  just 
stepping  into  womanhood,  hiding  against  her  young  bosom 
the  nakedness  of  the  little  creature  she  loved.  Another  fine 
boy,  whose  neatly-patched  clothes  had  not  one  piece  of  the 
original  stuff  apparently  left  in  them,  stood  behind  his  mother, 
with  dark,  glistening  eyes  fastened  upon  me,  as  if  amused, 
and  wondering  who  I  was,  and  what  business  I  could  have 
there.  A  pale  and  attenuated,  but  very  pretty,  delicately- 
featured  little  girl  was  seated  on  a  low  stool  before  the  fire. 


192  ROUGBING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

This  was  old  Jenny's  darling,  Ellie,  or  Eloise.  A  rude  bed 
stead,  of  home  manufacture,  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  covered 
with  a  coarse  woollen  quilt,  contained  two  little  boys,  who 
had  crept  into  it  to  conceal  their  wants  from  the  eyes  of  the 
stranger.  On  the  table  lay  a  dozen  peeled  potatoes,  and  a 
small  pot  was  boiling  on  the  fire,  to  receive  this  their  scanty 
and  only  daily  meal.  There  was  such  an  air  of  patient  and 
enduring  suffering  in  the  whole  group,  that,  as  I  gazed  heart- 
stricken  upon  it,  my  fortitude  quite  gave  way,  and  I  burst  into 
tears. 

Mrs.  N first  broke  the  painful  silence,  and,  rather 

proudly,  asked  me  to  whom  she  had  the  pleasure  of  speaking. 
I  made  a  desperate  effort  to  regain  my  composure,  and  told 
her,  but  with  much  embarrassment,  my  name  ;  adding  that  I 
was  so  well  acquainted  with  her  and  her  children,  through 
Jenny,  that  I  could  not  consider  her  as  a  stranger ;  that  I 
hoped  that,  as  I  was  the  wife  of  an  officer,  and,  like  her,  a 
resident  in  the  bush,  and  well  acquainted  with  all  its  trials  and 
privations,  she  would  look  upon  me  as  a  friend. 

She  seemed  surprised  and  annoyed,  and  I  found  no  small 
difficulty  in  introducing  the  object  of  my  visit ;  but  the  day 
was  rapidly  declining,  and  I  knew  that  not  a  moment  was  to 
be  lost.  At  first  she  coldly  rejected  all  offers  of  service,  and 
said  that  she  was  contented,  and  wanted  for  nothing. 

I  appealed  to  the  situation  in  which  I  beheld  herself  and 
her  children,  and  implored  her,  for  their  sakes,  not  to  refuse 
help  from  friends  who  felt  for  her  distress.  Her  maternal 
feelings  triumphed  over  her  assumed  indifference,  and  when 
she  saw  me  weeping,  for  I  could  no  longer  restrain  my  tears, 
her  pride  yielded,  and  for  some  minutes  not  a  word  was 
spoken.  I  heard  the  large  tears,  as  they  slowly  fell  from  her 
daughter's  eyes,  drop  one  by  one  upon  her  garments. 

At  last  the  poor  girl  sobbed  out,  "  Dear  mamma,  why  co;> 


TEE  WALK  TO  SUMMER.  193 

ceal  the  truth?  You  know  that  we  are  nearly  naked,  and 
starving." 

Then  came  the  sad  tale  of  domestic  woes : — the  absence 
of  the  husband  and  eldest  son ;  the  uncertainty  as  to  where 
they  were,  or  in  what  engaged  ;  the  utter  want  of  means  to 
procure  the  common  necessaries  of  life  ;  the  sale  of  the  only 
remaining  cow  that  used  to  provide  the  children  with  food. 
It  had  been  sold  for  twelve  dollars,  part  to  be  paid  in  cash, 
part  in  potatoes ;  the  potatoes  were  nearly  exhausted,  and 
they  were  allowanced  to  so  many  a  day.  But  the  six  dollars 
she  had  retained  as  their  last  resource.  Alas  !  she  had  sent 
the  eldest  boy  the  day  before  to  P— — ,  to  get  a  letter  out 
of  the  post-office,  which  she  hoped  contained  some  tidings  of 
her  husband  and  son.  She  was  all  anxiety  and  expectation 
— but  the  child  returned  late  at  night  without  the  letter  which 
they  had  longed  for  with  such  feverish  impatience.  The  six 
dollars  upon  which  they  had  depended  for  a  supply  of  food 
were  in  notes  of  the  Farmer's  Bank,  which  at  that  time  would 
not  pass  for  money,  and  which  the  roguish  purchaser  of  the 
cow  had  passed  off  upon  this  distressed  family. 

Oh !  imagine,  ye  who  revel  in  riches — who  can  daily  throw 
away  a  large  sum  upon  the  merest  toy — the  cruel  disappoint 
ment,  the  bitter  agony  of  this  poor  mother's  heart,  when  she 
received  this  calamitous  news,  in  the  midst  of  her  starving 
children.  For  the  last  nine  weeks  they  had  lived  upon  a 
scanty  supply  of  potatoes  ; — they  had  not  tasted  raised  bread 
or  animal  food  for  eighteen  months. 

"  Ellie,"  said  I,  anxious  to  introduce  the  sack,  which  had 
lain  like  a  nightmare  upon  my  mind,  "  I  have  something  for 
you ;  Jenny  baked  some  loaves  last  night,  and  sent  them  to 
you  with  her  best  love." 

The  eyes  of  all  the  children  grew  bright.  "  You  will  find 
the  sack  with  the  bread  in  the  passage,"  said  I  to  one  of  the 

VOL.   II.  9 


194  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"boys.  He  rushed  joyfully  out,  and  returned  with  Mrs. 

and  the  sack.  Her  bland  and  affectionate  greeting  restored 
us  all  to  tranquillity. 

The  delighted  boy  opened  the  sack.  The  first  thing  he 
produced  was  the  ham. 

"  Oh,"  said  I,  "  that  is  a  ham  that  my  sister  sent  to  Mrs. 

N ;  'tis  of  her  own  curing,  and  she  thought  that  it  might 

be  acceptable." 

Then  came  the  white  fish,  nicely  packed  in  a  clean  cloth. 

"  Mrs.  C thought  fish  might  be  a  treat  to  Mrs.  N , 

as  she  lived  so  far  from  the  great  lakes."  Then  came  Jenny's 
bread,  which  had  already  been  introduced.  The  beef,  and 
tea,  and  sugar,  fell  upon  the  floor  without  any  comment. 
The  first  scruples  had  been  overcome,  and  the  day  was  ours. 

"  And  now.  ladies,"  said  Mrs.  N ,  with  true  hospitality, 

"  since  you  have  brought  refreshments  with  you,  permit  me 
to  cook  something  for  your  dinner." 

The  scene  1  had  just  witnessed  had  produced  such  a  cho 
king  sensation  that  all  my  hunger  had  vanished.  Before  we 

could  accept  or  refuse  Mrs.  N 's  kind  offer,  Mr.  T 

arrived,  to  hurry  us  off. 

It  was  two  o'clock  when  we  descended  the  hill  in  front  of 
the  house,  that  led  by  a  side-path  round  to  the  road,  and  com 
menced  our  homeward  route.  I  thought  the  four  miles  of 
clearings  would  never  be  passed  ;  and  the  English  Line 
appeared  to  have  no  end.  At  length  we  entered  once  more 
the  dark  forest. 

The  setting  sun  gleamed  along. the  ground  ;  the  necessity 
of  exerting  our  utmost  speed,  and  getting  through  the  great 
swamp  before  darkness  surrounded  us,  was  apparent  to  all. 
The  men  strode  vigorously  forward,  for  they  had  been  re 
freshed  with  a  substantial  dinner  of  potatoes  and  pork,  washed 
down  with  a  glass  of  whiskey,  at  the  cottage  in  which  they 


THE  WALK  TO  DUMXER.  105 

had  waited  for  us ;  but  poor  Emilia  and  I,  faint,  hungry,  and 
foot-sore,  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  we  could  keep  up. 
I  thought  of  Rosalind,  as  our  march  up  and  down  the  fallen 
logs  recommenced,  and  often  exclaimed  with  her,  "  Oh, 
Jupiter !  how  weary  are  my  legs  !" 

Night  closed  in  just  as  we  reached  the  beaver-meadow. 
Here  o\jr  ears  were  greeted  with  the  sound  of  well-known 

voices.     James  and  Henry  C had  brought  the  ox-sleigh 

to  meet  us  at  the  edge  of  the  bush.  Never  was  splendid 
equipage  greeted  with  such  delight.  Emilia  and  I,  now  fairly 
exhausted  with  fatigue,  scrambled  into  it,  and  lying  down  on 
the  straw  which  covered  the  bottom  of  the  rude  vehicle,  we 
drew  the  buffalo  robes  over  our  faces,  and  actually  slept 
soundly  until  we  reached  Colonel  C 's  hospitable  door. 

An  excellent  supper  of  hot  fish  and  fried  venison  was 
smoking  on  the  table,  with  other  good  cheer,  to  which  we  did 
ample  justice.  I,  for  one,  was  never  so  hungry  in  my  life. 
We  had  fasted  for  twelve  hours,  and  that  on  an  intensely  cold 
day,  and  had  walked  during  that  period  upwards  of  twenty 
miles.  Never,  never  shall  I  forget  that  weary  walk  to  Dum- 
nier;  but  a  blessing  followed  it. 

It  was  midnight  when  Emilia  and  I  reached  my  humble 
home  ;  our  good  friends  the  oxen  being  again  put  in  requisi 
tion  to  carry  us  there.  Emilia  went  immediately  to  bed, 
from  which  she  was  unable  to  rise  for  several  days.  In  the 
mean  while  I  wrote  to  Moodie  an  account  of  the  scene  I  had 
witnessed,  and  he  raised  a  subscription  among  the  officers  of 
the  regiment  for  the  poor  lady  and  her  children,  which 
amounted  to  forty  dollars.  Emilia  lost  no  time  in  making 

a  full  report  to  her  friends  at  P ;  and  before  a  week 

passed  away,  Mrs.   N and  her  family  were   removed 

thither  by  several  benevolent  individuals  in  the  place.     A 
neat  cottage  was  hired  for  her  j  and,  to  the  honour  of  Canada 


196  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

be  it  spoken,  all  who  could  afford  a  donation  gave  cheerfully. 
Farmers  left  at  her  door,  pork,  beef,  flour,  and  potatoes ;  the 
storekeepers  sent  groceries,  and  goods  to  make  clothes  for  the 
children ;  the  shoemakers  contributed  boots  for  the  boys ; 
while  the  ladies  did  all  in  their  power  to  assist  and  comfort 
the  gentle  creature  thus  thrown  by  Providence  upon  their 
bounty. 

While  Mrs.  N remained  at  P she  did  not  want  for 

any  comfort.  Her  children  were  clothed  and  her  rent  paid  by 
her  benevolent  friends,  and  her  house  supplied  with  food  and 
many  comforts  from  the  same  source.  Respected  and  beloved 
by  all  who  knew  her,  it  would  have  been  well  had  she  never 
left  the  quiet  asylum  where,  for  several  years,  she  enjoyed 
tranquillity,  and  a  respectable  competence  from  her  school ; 
but  in  an  evil  hour  she  followed  her  worthless  husband  to  the 
Southern  States,  and  again  suffered  all  the  woes  which  drunk, 
enness  inflicts  upon  the  wives  and  children  of  its  degraded 
victims. 


A  CHANGE  IN  OUR  PROSPECTS.  197 


CHAPTEK    XII. 


A     CHANGE     IN     OUR     PROSPECTS. 

DURING  my  illness,  a  kind  neighbour,  who  had  not  only 
frequently  come  to  see  me,  but  had  brought  me  many 
nourishing  things,  made  by  her  own  fair  hands,  took  a  great 
fancy  to  my  second  daughter,  who,  lively  and  volatile,  could 
not  be  induced  to  remain  quiet  in  the  sick  chamber.  The 
noise  she  made  greatly  retarded  my  recovery,  and  Mrs. 
H took  her  home  with  her,  as  the  only  means  of  obtain 
ing  for  me  necessary  rest.  During  that  winter,  and  through 
the  ensuing  summer,  I  only  received  occasional  visits  from 
my  little  girl,  who,  fairly  established  with  her  new  friends, 
looked  upon  their  house  as  her  home. 

This  separation,  which  was  felt  as  a  great  benefit  at  the 
time,  greatly  estranged  the  affections  of  the  child  from  her 
own  people.  She  saw  us  so  seldom  that  she  almost  regarded 
us,  when  she  did  meet,  as  strangers ;  and  I  often  deeply 
lamented  the  hour  when  I  had  unwittingly  suffered  the  three 
fold  cord  of  domestic  love  to  be  unravelled  by  absence,  and 
the  flattering  attentions  which  fed  the  vanity  of  a  beautiful 
child,  without  strengthening  her  moral  character.  Mrs. 
H ,  whose  husband  was  wealthy,  was  a  generous,  warm 
hearted  girl  of  eighteen.  Lovely  in  person,  and  fascinating 
in  manners,  and  still  too  young  to  have  any  idea  of  forming 
the  character  of  a  child,  she  dressed  the  little  creature  expen 
sively  ;  and,  by  constantly  praising  her  personal  appearance, 


198  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

gave  her  an  idea  of  her  own  importance  which  it  took  many 
years  to  eradicate. 

It  is  a  great  error  to  suffer  a  child,  who  has  been  trained  in 
the  hard  school  of  poverty  and  self-denial,  to  be  transplanted 
suddenly  into  the  hot-bed  of  wealth  and  luxury.  The  idea  of 
the  child  being  so  much  happier  and  better  off  blinds  her  fond 
parents  to  the  dangers  of  her  new  situation,  where  she  is  sure 
to  contract  a  dislike  to  all  useful  occupation,  and  to  look  upon 
scanty  means  and  plain  clothing  as  a  disgrace.  If  the  reaction 
is  bad  for  a  grown-up  person,  it  is  almost  destructive  to  a  child 
who  is  incapable  of  moral  reflection.  Whenever  I  saw  little 
Addie,  and  remarked  the  growing  coldness  of  her  manner 
towards  us,  my  heart  reproached  me  for  having  exposed  her 
to  temptation. 

Still,  in  the  eye  of  the  world,  she  was  much  better  situated 
than  she  could  possibly  be  with  us.  The  heart  of  the  parent 
could  alone  understand  the  change. 

So  sensible  was  her  father  of  this  alteration,  that  the  first 
time  he  paid  us  a  visit  he  went  and  brought  home  his  child. 

"  If  she  remain  so  long  away  from  us,  at  her  tender 
years,"  he  said,  "  she  will  cease  to  love  us.  All  the  wealth 
in  the  world  would  not  compensate  me  for  the  love  of  my 
child." 

The  removal  of  my  sister  rendered  my  separation  from 
my  husband  doubly  lonely  and  irksome.  Sometimes  the 
desire  to  see  and  converse  with  him  would  press  so  painfully 
on  my  heart  that  I  would  get  up  in  the  night,  strike  a  light, 
and  sit  down  and  write  him  a  long  letter,  and  tell  him  all  that 
was  in  my  mind ;  and  when  I  had  thus  unburdened  my  spirit, 
the  letter  was  committed  to  the  flames,  and  after  fervently 
commending  him  to  the  care  of  the  Great  Father  of  mankind, 
I  would  lay  down  my  throbbing  head  on  my  pillow  beside 
our  first-born  son,  and  sleep  tranquilly. 


A  CHANGE  IN  OUR  PROSPECTS.  199 

It  is  a  strange  fact  that  many  of  my  husband's  letters  to 
me  were  written  at  the  very  time  when  I  felt  those  irresistible 
impulses  to  hold  communion  with  him.  Why  should  we  be 
ashamed  to  admit  openly  our  belief  in  this  mysterious  inter 
course  between  the  spirits  of  those  who  are  bound  to  each 
other  by  the  tender  ties  of  friendship  and  affection,  when  the 
experience  of  every  day  proves  its  truth  1  Proverbs,  which 
are  the  wisdom  of  ages  collected  into  a  few  brief  words,  tell 
us  in  one  pithy  sentence  that  "  if  we  talk  of  the  devil  he  is 
sure  to  appear."  While  the  name  of  a  long-absent  friend  is 
in  our  mouth,  the  next  moment  brings  him  into  our  presence. 
How  can  this  be,  if  mind  did  not  meet  mind,  and  the  spirit 
had  not  a  prophetic  consciousness  of  the  vicinity  of  another 
spirit,  kindred  with  its  own  ?  This  is  an  occurrence  so  com 
mon  that  I  never  met  with  any  person  to  whom  it  had  not 
happened  ;  few  will  admit  it  to  be  a  spiritual  agency,  but  in 
no  other  way  can  they  satisfactorily  explain  its  cause.  If  it 
were  a  mere  coincidence,  or  combination  of  ordinary  circum 
stances,  it  would  not  happen  so  often,  and  people  would  not 
be  led  to  speak  of  the  long  absent  always  at  the  moment 
when  they  are  just  about  to  present  themselves  before  them. 
My  husband  was  no  believer  in  what  he  termed  my  fanciful, 
speculative  theories  ;  yet  at  the  time  when  his  youngest  boy 
and  myself  lay  dangerously  ill,  and  hardly  expected  to  live,  I 
received  from  him  a  letter,  written  in  great  haste,  which  com 
menced  with  this  sentence  :  "  Do  write  to  me,  dear  S , 

when  you  receive  this.  I  have  felt  very  uneasy  about  you 
for  some  days  past,  and  am  afraid  that  all  is  not  right  at 
home." 

Whence  came  this  sudden  fear  ?  Why  at  that  particular 
time  did  his  thoughts  turn  so  despondingly  towards  those  so 
dear  to  him  ?  Why  did  the  dark  cloud  in  his  mind  hang  so 
heavily  above  his  home  ?  The  burden  of  my  weary  and  di&- 


200  ROUGHING-  IT  Z.V  THE  BUSH. 

tressed  spirit  had  reached  him  ;  and  without  knowing  of  our 
sufferings  and  danger,  his  own  responded  to  the  call. 

The  holy  and  mysterious  nature  of  man  is  yet  hidden  from 
himself;  he  is  still  a  stranger  to  the  movements  of  that  inner 
life,  and  knows  little  of  its  capabilities  and  powers.  A  purer 
religion,  a  higher  standard  of  moral  and  intellectual  training, 
may  in  time  reveal  all  this.  Man  still  remains  a  half-re 
claimed  savage ;  the  leaven  of  Christianity  is  slowly  and  surely 
working  its  way,  but  it  has  not  yet  changed  the  whole  lump, 
or  transformed  the  deformed  into  the  beauteous  child  of  God. 
Oh,  for  that  glorious  day !  It  is  coming.  The  dark  clouds 
of  humanity  are  already  tinged  with  the  golden  radiance  of  the 
dawn,  but  the  sun  of  righteousness  has  not  yet  arisen  upon  the 
world  with  healing  on  his  wings ;  the  light  of  truth  still  strug 
gles  in  the  womb  of  darkness,  and  man  stumbles  on  to  the 
fulfilment  of  his  sublime  and  mysterious  destiny. 

This  spring  I  was  not  a  little  puzzled  how  to  get  in  the 
crops.  I  still  continued  so  weak  that  I  was  quite  unable  to 
assist  in  the  field,  and  my  good  old  Jenny  was  sorely  troubled 
with  inflamed  feet,  which  required  constant  care.  At  this 
juncture,  a  neighbouring  settler,  who  had  recently  come 
among  us,  offered  to  put  in  my  small  crop  of  peas,  potatoes, 
and  oats,  in  all  not  comprising  more  than  eight  acres,  if  I 
would  lend  him  my  oxen  to  log-up  a  large  fallow  of  ten  acres, 
and  put  in  his  own  crops.  Trusting  to  his  fair  dealing,  I  con 
sented  to  this  arrangement ;  but  he  took  advantage  of  my 
isolated  position,  and  not  only  logged-up  his  fallow,  but  put  in 
all  his  spring  crops  before  he  sowed  an  acre  of  mine.  The 
oxen  were  worked  down  so  low  that  they  were  almost  unfit 
for  use,  and  my  crops  were  put  in  so  late,  and  with  such  little 
care,  that  they  all  proved  a  failure.  I  should  have  felt  this 
loss  more  severely  had  it  happened  in  any  previous  year, 
but  I  had  ceased  to  feel  that  deep  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the 


A   CHANGE  IN  OUR  PROSPECTS.  201 

farm,  from  a  sort  of  conviction  in  my  own  mind  that  it  would 
not  long  remain  my  home. 

Jenny  and  I  did  our  best  in  the  way  of  hoeing  and  weed 
ing  ;  but  no  industry  on  our  part  could  repair  the  injury  done 
to  the  seed  by  being  sown  out  of  season. 

We  therefore  confined  our  attention  to  the  garden,  which, 
as  usual,  was  very  productive,  and  with  milk,  fresh  butter, 
and  eggs,  supplied  the  simple  wants  of  our  family.  Emilia 
enlivened  our  solitude  by  her  company,  for  several  weeks 
during  the  summer,  and  we  had  many  pleasant  excursions  on 
the  water  together. 

My  knowledge  of  the  use  of  the  paddle,  however,  was  not 
entirely  without  its  danger. 

One  very  windy  Sunday  afternoon,  a  servant-girl,  who 

lived  with  my  friend  Mrs.  C ,  came  crying  to  the  house, 

and  implored  the  use  of  my  canoe  and  paddles,  to  cross  the 
lake  to  see  her  dying  father.  The  request  was  instantly 
granted ;  but  there  was  no  man  upon  the  place  to  ferry  her 
across,  and  she  could  not  manage  the  boat  herself — in  short, 
had  never  been  in  a  canoe  in  her  life. 

The  girl  was  deeply  distressed.  She  said  that  she  had  got 
word  that  her  father  could  scarcely  live  till  she  could  reach 
Smith-town ;  that  if  she  went  round  by  the  bridge,  she  must 
walk  five  miles,  while  if  she  crossed  the  lake  she  could  be 
home  in  half-an-hour. 

I  did  not  much  like  the  angry  swell  upon  the  water,  but 
the  poor  creature  was  in  such  grief  that  I  told  her,  if  she  was 
not  afraid  of  venturing  with  me,  I  would  try  and  put  her 
over. 

She  expressed  her  thanks  in  the  warmest  terms,  accom 
panied  by  a  shower  of  blessings  ;  and  I  took  the  paddles  and 
went  down  to  the  landing.  Jenny  was  very  averse  to  my 
tempting  Providence,  as  she  termed  it,  and  wished  that  I  might 
VOL.  ii.  9* 


202  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

get  back  as  safe  as  I  went.  However,  the  old  woman  launched 
the  canoe  for  me,  pushed  us  from  the  shore,  and  away  we 
went.  The  wind  was  in  my  favour,  and  I  found  so  little 
trouble  in  getting  across  that  I  began  to  laugh  at  my  own 
timidity.  I  put  the  girl  on  shore,  and  endeavoured  to  shape 
my  passage  home.  But  this  I  found  was  no  easy  task.  The 
water  was  rough,  and  the  wind  high,  and  the  strong  current, 
which  runs  through  that  part  of  the  lake  to  the  Smith  rapids, 
was  dead  against  me.  In  vain  I  laboured  to  cross  this  current ; 
it  resisted  all  my  efforts,  and  at  each  repulse  I  was  carried 
further  down  towards  the  rapids,  which  were  fall  of  sunken 
rocks,  and  hard  for  the  strong  arm  of  a  man  to  stem— to  the 
weak  hand  of  a  woman  their  safe  passage  was  impossible.  I 
began  to  feel  rather  uneasy  at  the  awkward  situation  in  which 
I  found  myself  placed,  and  for  some  time  I  made  desperate 
efforts  to  extricate  myself,  by  paddling  with  all  my  might. 
I  soon  gave  this  up,  and  contented  myself  by  steering  the 
canoe  in  the  path  it  thought  fit  to  pursue.  After  drifting 
down  with  the  current  for  some  little  space,  until  I  came  op 
posite  a  small  island,  I  put  out  all  my  strength  to  gain  the 
land.  In  this  I  fortunately  succeeded,  and  getting  on  shore,  I 
contrived  to  drag  the  canoe  so  far  round  the  headland  that  I 
got  her  out  of  the  current.  All  now  was  smooth  sailing,  and 
I  joyfully  answered  old  Jenny's  yells  from  the  landing,  that  I 
was  safe,  and  would  join  her  in  a  few  minutes. 

This  fortunate  manoeuvre  stood  me  in  good  stead  upon 
another  occasion,  when  crossing  the  lake,  some  weeks  after 
this,  in  company  with  a  young  female  friend,  during  a  sudden 
storm. 

Two  Indian  women,  heavily  laden  with  their  packs  of  dried 
venison,  called  at  the  house  to  borrow  the  canoe,  to  join  their 
encampment  upon  the  other  side.  It  so  happened  that  I 
wanted  to  send  to  the  mill  that  afternoon,  and  the  boat  could 


A   CHANGE  IN  OUR  PROSPECTS.  203 

not  be  returned  in  time  -without  I  went  over  with  the  Indian 
women  and  brought  it  back.  My  young  friend  was  delighted 
at  the  idea  of  the  frolic,  and  as  she  could  both  steer  and  pad 
dle,  and  the  day  was  calm  and  bright,  though  excessively 
warm,  we  both  agreed  to  accompany  the  squaws  to  the  other 
side,  and  bring  back  the  canoe. 

Mrs.  Muskrat  had  fallen  in  love  with  a  fine  fat  kitten, 
whom  the  children  had  called  "  Buttermilk,"  and  she  begged 
so  hard  for  the  little  puss,  that  I  presented  it  to  her,  rather 
marvelling  how  she  would  contrive  to  carry  it  so  many  miles 
through  the  woods,  and  she  loaded  with  such  an  enormous 
pack ;  when,  lo !  the  squaw  took  down  the  bundle,  and,  in  the 
heart  of  the  piles  of  dried  venison,  she  deposited  the  cat  in  a 
small  basket,  giving  it  a  thin  slice  of  the  meat  to  console  it 
for  its  close  confinement.  Puss  received  the  donation  with 
piteous  mews ;  it  was  evident  that  mice  and  freedom  were 
preferred  by  her  to  venison  and  the  honour  of  riding  on  a 
squaw's  back. 

The  squaws  paddled  us  quickly  across,  and  we  laughed 
and  chatted  as  we  bounded  over  the  blue  waves,  until  we 
were  landed  in  a  dark  cedar  swamp,  in  the  heart  of  which  we 
found  the  Indian  encampment. 

A  large  party  were  lounging  around  the  fire,  superintend 
ing  the  drying  of  a  quantity  of  venison  which  was  suspended 
on  forked  sticks.  Besides  the  flesh  of  the  deer,  a  number  of 
muskrats  were  skinned,  and  extended  as  if  standing  bolt  up 
right  before  the  fire,  warming  their  paws.  The  appearance 
they  cut  was  most  ludicrous.  My  young  friend  pointed  to 
the  muskrats,  as  she  sank  down,  laughing,  upon  one  of  the 
skins. 

Old  Snow-storm,  who  was  present,  imagined  that  she 
wanted  one  of  them  to  eat,  and  very  gravely  handed  her  the 
unsavoury  beast,  stick  arid  all. 


204  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  SUSS. 

"  Does  the  old  man  take  me  for  a  cannibal  f  she  said. 
"I  would  as  soon  eat  a  child." 

Among  the  many  odd  things  cooking  at  that  fire  there 
was  something  that  had  the  appearance  of  a  bull-frog. 

"  What  can  that  be  f  she  said,  directing  my  eyes  to  the 
strange  monster.  "  Surely  they  don't  eat  bull-frogs !" 

This  sally  was  received  by  a  grunt  of  approbation  from 
Snow-storm  ;  and,  though  Indians  seldom  forget  their  dignity 
so  far  as  to  laugh,  he  for  once  laid  aside  his  stoical  gravity, 
and,  twirling  the  thing  round  with  a  stick,  burst  into  a  hearty 
peal. 

"  Muckakee  I  Indian  eat  muckakee  ? — Ha  !  ha !  Indian  no 
eat  muckakee !  Frenchmans  eat  his  hind  legs ;  they  say  the 
speckled  beast  much  good.  This  no  muckakee  f — the  liver  of 
deer,  dried — very  nice — Indian  eat  him." 

"  I  wish  him  much  joy  of  the  delicate  morsel,"  said  the 
saucy  girl,  wrho  was  intent  upon  quizzing  and  examining  every 
thing  in  the  camp. 

We  had  remained  the  best  part  of  an  hour,  when  Mrs. 
Muskrat  laid  hold  of  my  hand,  and  leading  me  through  the 
bush  to  the  shore,  pointed  up  significantly  to  a  cloud,  as  dark 
as  night,  that  hung  loweringly  over  the  bush. 

"  Thunder  in  that  cloud — get  over  the  lake — quick,  quick, 
before  it  breaks."  Then  motioning  for  us  to  jump  into  the 
canoe,  she  threw  in  the  paddles,  and  pushed  us  from  the  shore. 

We  saw  the  necessity  of  haste,  and  both  plied  the  paddle 
with  diligence  to  gain  the  opposite  bank,  or  at  least  the  shelter 
of  the  island,  before  the  cloud  poured  down  its  fury  upon  us. 
We  were  just  in  the  middle  of  the  current  when  the  first  peal 
of  thunder  broke  with  startling  nearness  over  our  heads.  The 
storm  frowned  darkly  upon  the  woods  ;  the  rain  came  down 
in  torrents  ;  and  there  were  we  exposed  to  its  utmost  fury  in 
the  middle  of  a  current  too  strong  for  us  to  stem. 


A   CHANGE  IN  OUR  PROSPECTS.  205 

"  What  shall  we  do  1  We  shall  be  drowned  !"  said  my 
young  friend,  turning  her  pale,  tearful  face  towards  me. 

"  Let  the  canoe  float  down  the  current  till  we  get  close  to 
the  island  ;  then  run  her  into  the  land.  I  saved  myself  once 
before  by  this  plan." 

We  did  so,  and  were  safe ;  but  there  we  had  to  remain, 
wet  to  our  skins,  until  the  wind  and  the  rain  abated  sufficiently 
for  us  to  manage  our  little  craft.  "  How  do  you  like  being 
upon  the  lake  in  a  storm  like  this  f  I  whispered  to  my  shiver 
ing,  dripping  companion. 

"  Very  well  in  romance,  but  terribly  dull  in  reality.  We 
cannot,  however,  call  it  a  dry  joke,"  continued  she,  wringing 
the  rain  from  her  dress.  "  I  wish  we  were  suspended  over  Old 
Snow-storm's  fire  with  the  bull-frog,  for  I  hate  a  shower-bath 
with  my  clothes  on." 

I  took  warning  by  this  adventure,  never  to  cross  the  lake 
again  without  a  stronger  arm  than  mine  in  the  canoe  to  steer 
me  safely  through  the  current. 

I  received  much  kind  attention  from  my  new  neighbour, 

the  Rev.  W.  W ,  a  truly  excellent  and  pious  clergyman 

of  the  English  Church.  The  good,  white-haired  old  man  ex 
pressed  the  kindest  sympathy  in  all  my  trials,  and  strength 
ened  me  greatly  with  his  benevolent  counsels  and  gentle 

charity.  Mr.  W was  a  true  follower  of  Christ.  His 

Christianity  was  not  confined  to  his  own  denomination ;  and 
.^every  Sabbath  his  log  cottage  was  filled  with  attentive  audi 
tors,  of  all  persuasions,  who  met  together  to  listen  to  the  word 
of  life  delivered  to  them  by  a  Christian  minister  in  the  wilder 
ness. 

He  had  been  a  very  fine  preacher,  and  though  considerably 
turned  of  seventy,  his  voice  was  still  excellent,  and  his  man 
ner  solemn  and  impressive. 

His  only  son3  a  young  man  of  twenty-eight  years  of  age, 


206  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

had  received  a  serious  injury  in  the  brain  by  falling  upon  a 
turfspade  from  a  loft  window  when  a  child,  and  his  intellect 
had  remained  stationary  from  that  time.  Poor  Harry  was  an 
innocent  child  ;  he  loved  his  parents  with  the  simplicity  of  a 
child,  and  all  who  spoke  kindly  to  him  he  regarded  as  friends. 
Like  most  persons  of  his  caste  of  mind,  his  predilection  for  pet 
animals  was  a  prominent  instinct.  He  was  always  followed 
by  two  dogs,  whom  he  regarded  with  especial  favour.  The 
jnoment  he  caught  your  eye,  he  looked  down  admiringly  upon 
his  four-footed  attendants,  patting  their  sleek  necks,  and  mur 
muring,  "  Nice  dogs — nice  dogs."  Harry  had  singled  out  my 
self  and  my  little  ones  as  great  favourites.  He  would  gather 
flowers  for  the  girls,  and  catch  butterflies  for  theljoys;  while 
to  me  he  always  gave  the  title  of  "  dear  aunt." 

It  so  happened  that  one  fine  morning  I  wanted  to  walk  a 
couple  of  miles  through  the  bush,  to  spend  the  day  with  Mrs. 

C ;  but  the  woods  were  full  of  the  cattle  belonging  to 

the  neighbouring  settlers,  and  of  these  I  was  terribly  afraid. 
Whilst  I  was  dressing  the  little  girls  to  accompany  me,  Harry 

W came  in  with  a  message  from  his  mother.  "  Oh," 

thought  I,  "  here  is  Harry  W .  He  will  walk  with  us 

through  the  bush,  and  defend  us  from  the  cattle." 

The  proposition  was  made,  and  Harry  was  not  a  little 
proud  of  being  invited  to  join  our  party.  We  had  accom 
plished  half  the  distance  without  seeing  a  single  hoof;  and  I 
was  beginning  to  congratulate  myself  upon  our  unusual  luck, 
when  a  large  red  ox,  maddened  by  the  stings  of  the  gadflies, 
came  headlong  through  the  brush,  tossing  up  the  withered 
leaves  and  dried  moss  with  his  horns,  and  making  directly 
towards  us.  I  screamed  to  my  champion  for  help  ;  but  where 
was  he  7 — running  like  a  frightened  chissmunk  along  the  fallen 
timber,  shouting  to  my  eldest  girl,  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 

"  Run,  Katty,  run  !— The  bull,  the  bull !     Run,  Katty  !— 


A   CHANGE  IN  OUR  PROSPECTS.  207 

The  bull,  the  bull !" — leaving  us  poor  creatures  far  behind  in 
the  chase. 

The  bull,  who  cared  not  one  fig  for  us,  did  not  even  stop 
to  give  us  a  passing  stare,  and  was  soon  lost  among  the 
trees  ;  while  our  valiant  knight  never  stopped  to  see  what  had 
become  of  us,  but  made  the  best  of  his  way  home.  So  much 
for  taking  an  innocent  for  a  guard. 

The  next  month  most  of  the  militia  regiments  were  dis 
banded.  My  husband's  services  were  no  longer  required  at 

P ,  and  he  once  more  returned  to  help  to  gather  in  our 

scanty  harvest.  Many  of  the  old  debts  were  paid  off  by  his 
hard-saved  pay ;  and  though  all  hope  of  continuing  in  the 
militia  service  was  at  an  end,  our  condition  was  so  much  im 
proved  that  we  looked  less  to  the  dark  than  to  the  sunny  side 
of  the  landscape. 

The  potato  crop  was  gathered  in,  and  I  had  collected  my 
store  of  dandelion  roots  for  our  winter  supply  of  coffee,  when 
one  day  brought  a  letter  to  my  husband  from  the  Governor's 

secretary,  offering  him  the  situation  of  sheriff  of  the  V 

district.  Though  perfectly  unacquainted  with  the  difficulties 
and  responsibilities  of  such  an  important  office,  my  husband 
looked  upon  it  as  a  gift  sent  from  heaven  to  remove  us  from 
the  sorrows  and  poverty  with  which  we  were  surrounded  in 
the  woods. 

Once  more  he  bade  us  farewell;  but  it  was  to  go  and 
make  ready  a  home  for  us,  that  we  should  no  more  be  sepa 
rated  from  each  other. 

Heartily  did  I  return  thanks  to  God  that  night  for  all  his 
mercies  to  us ;  and  Sir  George  Arthur  was  not  forgotten  in 
those  prayers. 

From  B ,  my  husband  wrote  to  me  to  make  what 

haste  I  could  in  disposing  of  our  crops,  household  furniture, 
stock,  and  farming  implements ;  and  to  prepare  myself  and 


208  Eommm  IT  IN  THE  BVSH. 

the  children  to  join  him  on  the  first  fall  of  snow  that  would 
make  the  roads  practicable  for  sleighing.  To  facilitate  this 
object,  he  sent  me  a  box  of  clothing,  to  make  up  for  myself 
and  the  children. 

For  seven  years  I  had  lived  out  of  the  world  entirely ;  rny 
person  had  been  rendered  coarse  by  hard  work  and  exposure 
to  the  weather.  I  looked  double  the  age  I  really  was,  and 
my  hair  was  already  thickly  sprinkled  with  gray.  I  clung  to 
niy  solitude.  I  did  not  like  to  be  dragged  from  it  to  mingle 
in  gay  scenes,  in  a  busy  town,  and  with  gayly-dressed  people. 
I  was  no  longer  fit  for  the  world ;  I  had  lost  all  relish  for  the 
pursuits  and  pleasures  which  are  so  essential  to  its  votaries; 
I  was  contented  to  live  and  die  in  obscurity. 

My  dear  Emilia  rejoiced,  like  a  true  friend,  in  my  changed 
prospects,  and  came  up  to  help  me  to  cut  clothes  for  the  chil 
dren,  and  to  assist  me  in  preparing  them  for  the  journey. 

I  succeeded  in  selling  off  our  goods  and  chattels  much 

better  than  I  expected.  My  old  friend,  Mr.  W ,  who 

was  a  new  comer,  became  the  principal  purchaser,  and  when 
Christmas  arrived  I  had  not  one  article  left  upon  my  hands 
save  the  bedding,  which  it  was  necessary  to  take  with  us. 


THE  MAGIC  SPELL.  209 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE    MAGIC    SPELL. 

TVTEVER  did  eager  British  children  look  for  the  first  violets 
•^ '  and  primroses  of  spring  with  more  impatience  than  my 
baby  boys  and  girls  watched,  day  after  day,  for  the  first 
snow-flakes  that  were  to  form  the  road  to  convey  them  to 
their  absent  father. 

"  Winter  never  means  to  come  this  year.  It  will  never 
snow  again  !"  exclaimed  my  eldest  boy,  turning  from  the 
window  on  Christmas-day,  with  the  most  rueful  aspect  that 
ever  greeted  the  broad,  gay  beams  of  the  glorious  sun.  It 
was  like  a  spring  day.  The  little  lake  in  front  of  the  window 
glittered  like  a  mirror  of  silver,  set  in  its  dark  frame  of 
pine  woods. 

I,  too,  was  wearying  for  the  snow,  and  was  tempted  to 
think  that  it  did  not  come  as  early  as  usual,  in  order  to  dis 
appoint  us.  But  I  kept  this  to  myself,  and  comforted  the 
expecting  child  with  the  oft-repeated  assertion  that  it  would 
certainly  snow  upon  the  morrow. 

But  the  morrow  came  and  passed  away,  and  many  other 
morrows,  and  the  'same  mild,  open  weather  prevailed.  The 
last  night  of  the  old  year  was  ushered  in  with  furious  storms 
of  wind  and  snow ;  the  rafters  of  our  log  cabin  shook  beneath 
the  violence  of  the  gale,  which  swept  up  from  the  lake  like 
a  lion  roaring  for  its  prey,  driving  the  snow-flakes  through 
every  open  crevice,  of  which  there  were  not  a  few,  and  pow- 


210  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

dering  the  floor  until  it  rivalled  in  whiteness  the  ground  with 
out. 

"  Oh,  what  a  dreadful  night !"  we  cried,  as  we  huddled, 
shivering,  around  the  old  broken  stove.  "  A  person  abroad 
in  the  woods  to-night  would  be  frozen.  Flesh  and  blood 
could  not  long  stand  this  cutting  wind." 

"  It  reminds  me  of  the  commencement  of  a  laughable  ex 
tempore  ditty,"  said  I  to  my  young  friend,  A.  C ,  who 

was  staying  with  me,  "  composed  by  my  husband,  during  the 
first  very  cold  night  we  spent  in  Canada : 

"  Oh,  the  cold  of  Canada  nobody  knows, 
The  fire  burns  our  shoes  without  warming  our  toes  ; 
Oh,  dear,  what  shall  we  do  ? 
Our  blankets  are  thin,  and  our  noses  are  blue — 
Our  noses  are  blue,  and  our  blankets  are  thin, 
It's  at  zero  without,  and  we  're  freezing  within! 

{^Chorus.}  Oh,  dear,  what  shall  we  do  ? 

"  But,  joking  apart,  my  dear  A ,  we  ought  to  be  very 

thankful  that  wTe  are  not  travelling  this  night  to  B ." 

"  But  to-morrow,"  said  my  eldest  boy,  lifting  up  his  curly 
head  from  my  lap.  "  It  will  be  fine  to-morrow,  and  we  shall 
see  dear  papa  again." 

In  this  hope  he  lay  down  on  his  little  bed  upon  the  floor, 
and  was  soon  fast  asleep  ;  perhaps  dreaming  of  that  eagerly- 
anticipated  journey,  and  of  meeting  his  beloved  father. 

Sleep  was  a  stranger  to  my  eyes.  The  tempest  raged  so 
furiously  without  that  I  was  fearful  the  roof  would  be  carried 
off  the  house,  or  that  the  chimney  would  take  fire.  The 
night  was  far  advanced  when  old  Jenny  and  myself  retired 
to  bed. 

My  boy's  words  were  prophetic ;  that  was  the  last  night 
I  ever  spent  in  the  bush — in  the  dear  forest  home  which  I  had 
loved  in  spite  of  all  the  hardships  which  we  had  endured  since 


THE  MAGIC  SPELL.  211 

we  pitched  our  tent  in  the  backwoods.  It  was  the  birthplace 
of  my  three  boys,  the  school  of  high  resolve  and  energetic 
action,  in  which  we  had  learned  to  meet  calmly,  and  success 
fully  to  battle  with,  the  ills  of  life.  Nor  did  I  leave  it  without 
many  regretful  tears,  to  mingle  once  more  with  a  world  to 
whose  usages,  during  my  long  solitude,  I  had  become  almost  a 
stranger,  and  to  whose  praise  or  blame  I  felt  alike  indifferent. 

When  the  day  dawned,  the  whole  forest  scenery  lay  glit 
tering  in  a  mantle  of  dazzling  white ;  the  sun  shone  brightly, 
the  heavens  were  intensely  blue,  but  the  cold  was  so  severe 
that  every  article  of  food  had  to  be  thawed  before  we  could 
get  our  breakfast.  The  very  blankets  that  covered  us  during 
the  night  were  stiff  with  our  frozen  breath.  "  I  hope  the 
sleighs  won't  come  to-day,"  I  cried  ;  "  we  should  be  frozen  on 
the  long  journey." 

About  noon  two  sleighs  turned  into  our  clearing.  Old 
Jenny  ran  screaming  into  the  room,  "  The  masther  has  sent 
for  us  at  last !  The  sleighs  are  come  !  Fine  large  sleighs, 
and  illigant  teams  of  horses!  Och,  and  it's  a  cowld  day. for 
the  wee  things  to  lave  the  bush." 

The  snow  had  been  a  week  in  advance  of  us  at  B ,  and 

my  husband  had  sent  up  the  teams  to  remove  us.  The  chil 
dren  jumped  about,  and  laughed  aloud  for  joy.  Old  Jenny 
did  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or  cry,  but  she  set  about  help 
ing  me  to  pack  up  trunks  and  bedding  as  fast  as  our  cold 
hands  would  permit. 

In  the  midst  of  the  confusion,  my  brother  arrived,  like  a 
good  genius,  to  our  assistance,  declaring  his  determination  to 

take  us  down  to  B himself  in  his  large  lumber-sleigh. 

This  was  indeed  joyful  news.  In  less  than  three  hours  he  des- 
patched  the  hired  sleighs  with  their  loads,  and  we  all  stood 
together  in  the  empty  house,  striving  to  warm  our  hands  ovei 
the  embers  of  the  expiring  fire. 


212  SOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  XUSff. 

How  cold  and  desolate  every  object  appeared  !  The  small 
windows,  half  blocked  up  with  snow,  scarcely  allowed  a 
glimpse  of  the  declining  sun  to  cheer  us  with  his  serene  aspect. 
In  spite  of  the  cold,  several  kind  friends  had  waded  through 
the  deep  snow  to  say,  "  God  bless  you  ! — Good-bye  ;"  while 
a  group  of  silent  Indians  stood  together,  gazing  upon  our  pro 
ceedings  with  an  earnestness  which  showed  that  they  were  not 
uninterested  in  the  scene.  As  we  passed  out  to  the  sleigh, 
they  pressed  forward,  and  silently  held  out  their  hands,  while 
the  squaws  kissed  me  and  the  little  ones  with  tearful  eyes. 
They  had  been  true  friends  to  us  in  our  dire  necessity,  and  I 
returned  their  mute  farewell  from  my  very  heart. 

Mr.  S sprang  into  the  sleigh.  One  of  our  party  was 

missing.  "  Jenny !"  shouted  my  brother,  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  "  it  is  too  cold  to  keep  your  mistress  and  the  little  chil 
dren  waiting." 

"  Och,  shure  thin,  it  is  I  that  am  comin' !"  returned  the  old 
body,  as  she  issued  from  the  house. 

Shouts  of  laughter  greeted  her  appearance.  The  figure  she 
cut  upon  that  memorable  day  I  shall  never  forget.  My  bro 
ther  dropped  the  reins  upon  the  horses'  necks,  and  fairly 
roared.  Jenny  was  about  to  commence  her  journey  to  the 
front  in  three  hats.  Was  it  to  protect  her  from  the  cold  ? 
Oh,  no ;  Jenny  was  not  afraid  of  the  cold  !  She  could  have 
eaten  her  breakfast  on  the  north  side  of  an  iceberg,  and  always 
dispensed  with  shoes,  during  the  most  severe  of  our  Canadian 
winters.  It  was  to  protect  these  precious  articles  from  injury. 

Our  good  neighbour,  Mrs.  W ,  had  presented  her  with 

an  old  sky-blue  drawn-siJk  bonnet,  as  a  parting  benediction. 
This,  by  way  of  distinction,  for  she  never  had  possessed  such 
an  article  of  luxury  as  a  silk  bonnet  in  her  life,  Jenny  had 
placed  over  the  coarse  calico  cap,  with  its  full  furbelow  of 
the  same  yellow,  ill-washed,  homely  material,  next  to  her 


THE  MAGIC  SPELL.  213 

head ;  over  this,  as  second  in  degree,  a  sun-burnt  straw  hat, 
with  faded  pink  ribbons,  just  showed  its  broken  rim  and  taw 
dry  trimmings ;  and,  to  crown  all,  and  serve  as  a  guard  to  the 
rest,  a  really  serviceable  gray  beaver  bonnet,  once  mine,  tow 
ered  up  as  high  as  the  celebrated  crown  in  which  brother 
Peter  figures  in  Swift's  "  Tale  of  a  Tub." 

"  Mercy,  Jenny !  Why,  old  woman,  you  don't  mean  to  go 
with  us  that  figure  ]" 

"  Och,  my  dear  heart !  I've  no  bandbox  to  kape  the  cowld 
from  desthroying  my  illigant  bonnets,"  returned  Jenny,  lay 
ing  her  hand  upon  the  side  of  the  sleigh. 

"  Go  back,  Jenny ;  go  back,"  cried  my  brother.  "  For 
God's  sake  take  all  that  tomfoolery  from  off  your  head.  We 
shall  be  the  laughing-stock  of  every  village  we  pass  through." 

"  Och,  shure  now,  Mr.  S ,  who'd  think  of  looking  at  an 

owld  crathur  like  me !  It's  only  yersel'  that  would  notice  the 
like." 

"  All  the  world,  every  body  would  look  at  you,  Jenny. 
I  believe  that  you  put  on  those  hats  to  draw  the  attention  of 
all  the  young  fellows  that  we  shall  happen  to  meet  on  the 
road.  Ha,  Jenny  !" 

W^ith  an  air  of  offended  dignity,  the  old  woman  returned 
to  the  house  to  re-arrange  her  toilet,  and  provide  for  the 
safety  of  her  "  illigant  bonnets,"  one  of  which  she  suspended 
to  the  strings  of  her  cloak,  while  she  carried  the  third  dan 
gling  in  her  hand ;  and  no  persuasion  of  mine  would  induce 
her  to  put  them 'out  of  sight. 

Many  painful  and  conflicting  emotions  agitated  my  mind, 
but  found  no  utterance  in  words,  as  we  entered  the  forest 
path,  and  I  looked  rny  last  upon  that  humble  home  consecra 
ted  by  the  memory  of  a  thousand  sorrows.  Every  object  had 
become  endeared  to  me  during  my  long  exile  from  civilized 
life.  I  loved  the  lonely  lake,  with  its  magnificent  belt  of  dark 


214  ROUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

pines  sighing  in  the  breeze ;  the  cedar  swamp,  the  summer 
home  of  my  dark  Indian  friends ;  my  own  dear  little  garden, 
with  its  rugged  snake-fence,  which  I  had  helped  Jenny  to 
place  with  my  own  hands,  and  which  I  had  assisted  the  faith 
ful  woman  in  cultivating  for  the  last  three  years,  where  I  had 
so  often  braved  the  tormenting  mosquitoes,  black-flies,  and 
intense  heat,  to  provide  vegetables  for  the  use  of  the  family. 
Even  the  cows,  that  had  given  a  breakfast  for  the  last  time  to 
my  children,  were  now  regarded  with  mournful  affection.  A 
poor  labourer  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  deserted  house, 
holding  my  noble  water-dog,  Rover,  in  a  string.  The  poor 
fellow  gave  a  joyous  bark  as  my  eyes  fell  upon  him. 

"  James  J ,  take  care  of  my  dog." 

"  Never  fear,  ma'am,  he  shall  bide  with  me  as  long  as  he 
lives." 

"  He  and  the  Indians  at  least  feel  grieved  for  our  depart 
ure,"  I  thought.  Love  is  so  scarce  in  this  world  that  we 
ought  to  prize  it,  however  lowly  the  source  from  whence  it 
flows. 

We  accomplished  only  twelve  miles  of  our  journey  that 
night.  The  road  lay  through  the  bush,  and  along  the  banks 
of  the  grand,  rushing,  foaming  Otonabee  river,  the  wildest  and 
most  beautiful  of  forest  streams.  We  slept  at  the  house  of 
kind  friends,  and  early  in  the  morning  resumed  our  long  jour 
ney,  but  minus  one  of  our  party.  Our  old  favourite  cat, 
Peppermint,  had  made  her  escape  from  the  basket  in  which- 
she  had  been  confined,  and  had  scampered*  off.  to  the  great 
grief  of  the  children. 

As  we  passed  Mrs.  H 's  house,  we  called  for  dear  Ad- 

die.     Mr.  H brought  her  in  his  arms  to  the  gate,  well 

wrapped  up  in  a  large  fur  cape  and  a  warm  woollen  shawl. 

"You  are  robbing  me  of  my  dear  little  girl,"  he  said. 
"  Mra.  H is  absent ;  she  told  me  not  to  part  with  her 


THE  MAGIC  SPELL.  215 

if  you  should  call ;  but  I  could  not  detain  her  without  your 
consent.  Now  that  you  have  seen  her,  allow  me  to  keep  her 
for  a  few  months  longer !" 

Addie  was  in  the  sleigh.     I  put  my  arm  around  her. 
felt  I  had  my  child  again,  and  I  secretly  rejoiced  in  the  pos 
session  of  my  own.     I  sincerely  thanked  him  for  his  kindness, 
and  Mr.  S drove  on. 

At  Mr.  R 's,  we  found   a  parcel  from  dear  Emilia, 

containing  a  plum-cake  and  other  good  things  for  the  children. 
Her  kindness  never  flagged. 

We  crossed  the  bridge  over  the  Otonabee,  in  the  rising 
town  of  Peterborough,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Win 
ter  had  now  set  in  fairly.  The  children  were  glad  to  huddle 
together  in  the  bottom  of  the  sleigh,  under  the  buffalo  skins 
and  blankets ;  all  but  my  eldest  boy,  who,  just  turned  of  five 
years  old,  was  enchanted  with  all  he  heard  and  saw,  and  con 
tinued  to  stand  up  and  gaze  around  him.  Born  in  the  forest, 
which  he  had  never  quitted  before,  the  sight  of  a  town  was 
such  a  novelty  that  he  could  find  no  words  wherewith  to  ex 
press  his  astonishment. 

"  Are  the  houses  come  to  see  one  another  V  he  asked. 
"  How  did  they  all  meet  here  1" 

-  The  question  greatly  amused  his  uncle,  who  took  some 
pains  to  explain  to  him  the  difference  between  town  and 
country.  During  the  day,  we  got  rid  of  old  Jenny  and  -her 
onnets,  whom  we  found  a  very  refractory  travelling  com 
panion  ;  as  wilful,  and  for  more  difficult  to  manage  than  a 
young  child.  Fortunately,  we  overtook  the  sleighs  with  the 

Airniture,  and  Mr.  S transferred  Jenny  to  the  care  of  one 

-f  the  drivers  ;  an  arrangement  that  proved  satisfactory  to 
all  parties. 

We  had  been  most  fortunate  in  obtaining  comfortable 
lodgings  for  the  night.  The  evening  had  closed  in  so  intensely 


216  HOUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

cold,  that  although  we  were  only  two  miles  from 
Addie  was  so  much  affected  by  it  that  the  child  lay  sick  and 
pale  in  my  arms,  and,  when  spoken  to,  seemed  scarcely  con 
scious  of  our  presence. 

My  brother  jumped  from  the  front  seat,  and  came  round 
to  look  at  her.  "  That  child  is  ill  with  the  cold ;  we  must 
stop  somewhere  to  warm  her,  or  she  will  hardly  hold  out  till 
we  get  to  the  inn  at  C ." 

We  were  just  entering  the  little  village  of  A ,  in  the 

vicinity  of  the  court-house,  and  we  stopped  at  a  pretty  green 
cottage,  and  asked  permission  to  warm  the  children.  A 
stout,  middle-aged  woman  came  to  the  sleigh,  and  in  the  kind 
est  manner  requested  us  to  alight. 

"  I  think  I  know  that  voice,"  I  said.  "  Surely  it  cannot  be 
Mrs.  S ,  who  once  kept  the hotel  at  C ]" 

"  Mrs.  Moodie,  you  are  welcome,"  said  the  excellent  woman, 
bestowing  upon  me  a  most  friendly  embrace ;  "  you  and  your 
children.  I  am  heartily  glad  to  see  you  again  after  so  many 
years.  God  bless  you  all !" 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  and  hospitality  of  this 
generous  woman  ;  she  would  not  hear  of  our  leaving  her  that 
night,  and,  directing  my  brother  to  put  up  his  horses  in  her 
stable,  she  made  up  an  excellent  fire  in  a  large  bedroom,  and 
helped  me  to  undress  the  little  ones  who  were  already  asleep, 
and  to  warm  and  feed  the  rest  before  we  put  them  to  bed. 

This  meeting  gave  me  real  pleasure.  In  their  station  of 
life,  I  seldom  have  found  a  more  worthy  couple  than  this 
American  and  his  wife ;  and,  having  witnessed  so  many  of 
their  acts  of  kindness,  both  to  ourselves  and  others,  I  enter 
tained  for  them  'a  sincere  respect  and  affection,  and  truly  re 
joiced  that  Providence  had  once  more  led  me  to  the  shelter 
of  their  roof. 

Mr.  S was  absent,  but  I  found  little  Mary — the  sweet 


TEE  MAGIC  SPELL. 

child  who  used  to  listen  with  such  delight  to  Moodie's-  flute — . 
grown  up  into  a  beautiful  girl ;  and  the  baby  that  was,  a  fine 
child  of  eight  years  old.  The  next  morning  was  so  intensely 
cold  that  my  brother  would  not  resume  the  journey  until  past 
ten  o'clock,  and  even  then  it  was  a  hazardous  experiment. 

We  had  not  proceeded  four  miles  before  the  horses  were 
covered  with  icicles.  Our  hair  was  frozen  as  white  as  Old 
Time's  solitary  forelock,  our  eyelids  stiff,  and  every  limb 
aching  with  cold. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  said  my  brother,  turning  to  me  \ 
"  the  children  will  freeze.  I  never  felt  the  cold  more  severe 
than  this." 

"  Where  can  we  stop  f  said  I  ;  "  we  are  miles  from 

C ,  and  I  see  no  prospect  of  the  weather  becoming 

milder." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  I  know,  by  the  very  intensity  of  the  cold,  that 
a  change  is  at  hand.  We  seldom  have  more  than  three  very 
severe  days  running,  and  this  is  the  third.  At  all  events,  it 
is  much  warmer  at  night  in  this  country  than  during  the  day ; 
the  wind  drops,  and  the  frost  is  more  bearable.  I  know  a 
worthy  farmer  who  lives  about  a  mile  ahead ;  he  will  give  us 
house-room  for  a  few  hours,  and  we  will  resume  our  journey 
in  the  evening.  The  moon  is  at  full ;  and  it  will  be  easier  to 
wrap  the  children  up,  and  keep  them  warm  when  they  are 
asleep.  Shall  we  stop  at  Old  Woodruff's  ?" 

"  With  all  my  heart."  My  teeth  were  chattering  with  the 
cold,  and  the  children  were  crying  over  their  aching  fingers 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sleigh.  **t 

A  few  minutes'  ride  brought  us  to  a  large  farm-house,  sur 
rounded  by  commodious  sheds  and  barns.  A  fine  orchard 
opposite,  and  a  yard  well  stocked  with  fat  cattle  and  sheep, 
sleek  geese,  and  plethoric-looking  swine,  gave  promise  of  a 
land  of  abundance  and  comfort.  My  brother  r^u  into  th$ 

VOL.   II.  10 


218  KOUGHISG  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

house  to  see  if  the  owner  was  at  home,  and  presently  re 
turned,  accompanied  by  the  staunch  Canadian  yeoman  and 
his  daughter,  who  gave  us  a  truly  hearty  welcome,  and  as 
sisted  in  removing  the  children  from  the  sleigh  to  the  cheerful 
fire,  that  made  all  bright  and  cozy  within. 

Our  host  was  a  shrewd,  humorous-looking  Yorkshireman. 
His  red,  weather  beaten  face,  and  tall,  athletic  figure,  bent  as 
it  was  with  hard  labour,  gave  indications  of  great  personal 
strength ;  and  a  certain  knowing  twinkle  in  his  small,  clear 
gray  eyes,  which  had  been  acquired  by  long  dealing  with  the 
world,  with  a  quiet,  sarcastic  smile  that  lurked  round  the 
corners  of  his  large  mouth,  gave  you  the  idea  of  a  man 
who  could  not  easily  be  deceived  by  his  fellows ;  one  who, 
though  no  rogue  himself,  was  quick  in  detecting  the  roguery 
of  others.  His  manners  were  frank  and  easy,  and  he  was 
such  a  hospitable  entertainer  that  you  felt  at  home  with  him 
in  a  minute. 

"  Well,  how  are  you,  Mr.  S ?"  cried  the  farmer,  sha 
king  my  brother  heartily  by  the  hand.  "  Toiling  in  the  bush 
still,  eh  1" 

"  Just  in  the  same  place." 

"  And  the  wife  and  children  ?" 

"Hearty.  Some  half-dozen  have  been  added  to  the  flock 
since  you  were  our  way." 

"So  much  the  better — so  much  the  better.  The  more 
the  merrier,  Mr.  S ;  children  are  riches  in  this  country." 

"  I  know  not  how  that  may  be ;  I  find  it  hard  to  clothe 
and  feed  mine." 

"  Wait  till  they  grow  up ;  they  will  be  brave  helps  to  you 
then.  The  price  of  labour — the  price  of  labour,  Mr.  S— -, 
is  the  destruction  of  the  farmer." 

"  It  does  not  seem  to  trouble  you  much,  Woodruff,"  said 
my  brother,  glancing  round  the  well-furnished  apartment, 


THE  MAGIC  SPELL.  219 

"  My  son  and  S do  it  all,"  cried  the  old  man.  w  Of 

course  the  girls  help  in  busy  times,  and  take  care  of  the  dairy, 
and  we  hire  occasionally ;  but  small  as  the  sum  is  which  ia 
expended  in  wages  during  seed-time  and  harvest,  I  feel  it,  I 
can  tell  you." 

"  You  are  married  again,  Woodruff]" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  farmer,  with  a  peculiar  smile ;  "  not 
yet :"  which  seemed  to  imply  the  probability  of  such  an 
event.  "  That  tall  gal  is  my  eldest  daughter ;  she  manages 
the  house,  and  an  excellent  housekeeper  she  is.  But  I  cannot 
keep  her  for  ever."  With  a  knowing  wink,  "  Gals  will  think 
of  getting  married,  and  seldom  consult  the  wishes  of  their 
parents  upon  the  subject  when  once  they  have  taken  the  notion 

into  their  heads.  But  'tis  natural,  Mr.  S ,  it  is  natural ; 

we  did  just  the  same  when  we  were  young." 

My  brother  looked  laughingly  towards  the  fine,  handsome 
young  woman,  as  she  placed  upon  the  table  hot  water,  whiskey, 
and  a  huge  plate  of  plum-cake,  which  did  not  lack  a  com 
panion,  stored  with  the  finest  apples  which  the  orchard  could 
produce 

The  young  girl  looked  down,  and  blushed. 

"  Oh,  I  see  how  it  is,  Woodruff!  You  will  soon  lose  your 
daughter.  I  wonder  that  you  have  kept  her  so  long.  But 
who  are  these  young  ladies!"  he  continued,  as  threo  girls 
very  demurely  entered  the  room. 

"  The  two  youngest  are  my  darters,  by  my  last  wife,  who, 
I  fear,  mean  soon  to  follow  the  bad  example  of  their  sister. 
The  other  lady"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  reverential  air,  "  is 
a  particular  friend  of  my  eldest  darter's," 

My  brother  laughed  slyly,  and  the  old  man's  cheek  took  ft 
deeper  glow  as  he  stooped  forward  to  mix  the  punch. 

"  You  said  that  these  two  young  ladies,  Woodruff,  were 
by  your  last  wife.  Pray  how  many  wives  have  you  had  1" 


220  SOUGHING-  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

"  Only  three.  It  is  impossible,  they  say  in  my  country, 
to  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing." 

"  So  I  suppose  you  think,"  said  my  brother,  glancing  first 
at  the  old  man  and  then  towards  Miss  Smith.  "Three  wives  ! 
You  have  been  a  fortunate  man,  Woodruff,  to  survive  them 
all." 

"  Ah,  have  I  not,  Mr.  S ?  but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 

have  been  both  lucky  and  unlucky  in  the  wife  way,"  and  then 
he  told  us  the  history  of  his  several  ventures  in  matrimony, 
with  which  I  shall  not  trouble  my  readers. 

When  he  had  concluded,  the  weather  was  somewhat 
milder,  the  sleigh  was  ordered  to  the  door,  and  we  proceeded 
on  our  journey,  resting  for  the  night  at  a  small  village  about 

twenty  miles  from  B ,  rejoicing  that  the  long  distance 

which  separated  us  from  the  husband  and  father  was  dimin 
ished  to  a  few  miles,  a>id  that,  with  the  blessing  of  Providence, 
we  should  meet  on  the  morrow. 

About  noon  we  reached  the  distant  town,  and  were  met 
at  the  inn  by  him  whom  one  and  all  so  ardently  longed  to 
see.  He  conducted  us  to  a  pretty,  neat  cottage,  which  he  had 
prepared  for  our  reception,  and  where  we  found  old  Jenny 
already  arrived.  With  great  pride  the  old  woman  conducted 
me  over  the  premises,  and  showed  me  the  furniture  "  the 
masther"  had  bought ;  especially  recommending  to  my  notice 
a  china  tea-service,  which  she  considered  the  most  wonderful 
acquisition  of  the  whole. 

"  Och !  who  would  have  thought,  a  year  ago,  misthress 
dear,  that  we  should  be  living  in  a  mansion  like  this,  and 
ating  off  raal  chaney  1  It  is  but  yestherday  that  we  were 
hoeing  praties  in  the  field." 

"  Yes,  Jenny,  God  has  been  very  good  to  us,  and  I  hop6 
that  we  shall  never  learn  to  regard  with  indifference  the  many 
benefits  which  we  have  received  at  His  hands." 


THE  MAGIC  SPELL.  221 

Reader !  it  is  not  my  intention  to  trouble  you  with  the 
sequel  of  our  history.  I  have  given  you  a  faithful  picture  of 
a  life  in  the  backwoods  of  Canada,  and  I  leave  you  to  draw 
from  it  your  own  conclusions.  To  the  poor,  industrious 
workingman  it  presents  many  advantages ;  to  the  poor  gen 
tleman,  none  !  The  former  works  hard,  puts  up  with  coarse, 
scanty  fare,  and  submits,  with  a  good  grace,  to  hardships  that 
would  kill  a  domesticated  animal  at  home.  Thus  he  becomes 
independent,  inasmuch  as  the  land  that  he  has  cleared  finds 
him  in  the  common  necessaries  of  life  ;  but  it  seldom,  if  ever, 
in  remote  situations,  accomplishes  more  than  this.  The  gen 
tleman  can  neither  \vork  so  hard,  live  so  coarsely,  nor  endure 
so  many  privations  as  his  poorer  but  more  fortunate  neigh 
bour.  Unaccustomed  to  manual  labour,  his  services  in  the 
field  are  not  of  a  nature  to  secure  for  him  a  profitable  return. 
The  task  is  new  to  him,  he  knows  not  how  to  perform  it  well ;  • 
and,  conscious  of  his  deficiency,  he  expends  his  little  means 
in  hiring  labour,  which  his  bush- farm  can  never  repay.  Dif 
ficulties  increase,  debts  grow  upon  him,  he  struggles  in  vain 
to  extricate  himself,  and  finally  sees  his  family  sink  into  hope 
less  ruin. 

If  these  sketches  should  prove  the  means  of  deterring  one 
family  from  sinking  their  property,  and  shipwrecking  all  their 
hopes,  by  going  to  reside  in  the  backwoods  of  Canada,  I  shall 
consider  myself  amply  repaid  for  revealing  the  secrets  of  the 
prison-house,  and  feel  that  I  have  not  toiled  and  suffered  in 
the  wilderness  in  vain. 


222  ROUGHING  IT  IN  TEE  BUSH. 


THE  MAPLE-TREE. 

A  CANADIAN  SONG. 

HATL  to  the  pride  of  the  forest — hail 

To  the  maple,  tall  and  green ; 
It  yields  a  treasure  which  ne'er  shall  fail 
While  leaves  on  its  boughs  are  seen. 

When  the  moon  shines  bright, 

On  the  wintry  night, 
And  silvers  the  frozen  snow; 

And  echo  dwells 

On  the  jingling  bells 
As  the  sleighs  dart  to  and  fro ; 

Then  it  brightens  the  mirth 

Of  the  social  hearth 
With  its  red  and  cheery  glow. 

Afar,  'mid  the  bosky  forest  shades, 

It  lifts  its  tall  head  on  high ; 
When  the  crimson-tinted  evening  fades 
From  the  glowing  saffron  sky; 

When  the  sun's  last  beams 

Light  up  woods  and  streams, 
And  brighten  the  gloom  below ; 

And  the  deer  springs  by 

With  his  flashing  eye, 
And  the  shy,  swift-footed  doo; 

And  the  sad  winds  chide 

In  the  branches  wide, 
With  a  tender  plaint  of  woe. 


The  Indian  leans  on  its  rugged  trunk, 
With  the  bow  in  his  rod  risrht-hand, 

And  mourns  that  his  race,  like  a  stream,  has  snnk 
From  the  glorious  forest  land. 


THE  MAPLE- TREE.  £23 

But,  blithe  and  free, 

The  maple-tree, 
Still  tosses  to  sun  and  air 

Its  thousand  arms, 

While  in  countless  swarms 
The  wild  bee  revels  there ; 

But  soon  not  a  trace 

Of  the  red  man's  race 
Shall  be  found  in  the  landscape  fair. 

When  the  snows  of  winter  are-  melting  fast, 

And  the  sap  begins  to  rise, 
And  the  biting  breath  of  the  frozen  blast 
Yields  to  the  spring's  soft  sighs, 

Then  away  to  the  wood, 

For  the  maple,  good, 
Shall  unlock  its  honied  store ; 

And  boys  and  girls, 

With  their  sunny  curls, 
Bring  their  vessels  brimming  o'er 

With  the  luscious  flood 

Of  the  brave  tree's  blood, 
Into  caldrons  deep  to  pour. 

The  blaze  from  the  sugar-bush  gleams  red; 

Far  down  in  the  forest  dark, 
A  ruddy  glow  on  the  trees  is  shed, 
That  lights  up  their  rugged  bark ; 

And  with  merry  shout, 

The  busy  rout 
Watch  the  sap  as  it  bubbles  high ; 

And  they  talk  of  the  cheer 

Of  the  coming  year, 
And  the  jest  and  the  song  pass  by ; 

And  brave  tales  of  old 

Bound  the  fire  are  told, 
That  kindle  youth's  beaming  eye. 

Hurra !  for  the  sturdy  maple-tree ! 

Long  may  its  green  branch  wave ; 
In  native  strength  sublime  and  frae, 

Meet  emblem  for  the  brave. 


224  ROUGHING  IT  IN  THE  BUSH. 

.  May  the  nation's  peace 

With  its  growth  increase, 
And  its  worth  be  widely  spread; 

For  it  lifts  not  in  vain 

To  the  sun  and  rain 
Its  tall,  majestic  head. 
-        May  it  grace  our  soil, 

And  reward  our  toil, 
Till  the  nation's  heart  is  dead  I 

Reader !  my  task  is  ended. 


THE    END. 


Stereotj-psd  by  BU.MN  &  BBOT.<EI:«,  No. -i(>  Xorth  WiiU»m-»treet. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

Tel.  No.  642-3405 

Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  priod  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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JHTER-LIBRARY 


JUN  5 


lift   fi  1975 

® 

MAR  I1?  1989 


AUTO 


C1HCULAT10N 


U.C.  BERKELEY 


